


Honey Whiskey

by MechanicalBones



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (Only in the first chapter though & it gets ended relatively quickly!), Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Basically these are two very sad boys who deserve to catch a break, Connor Deserves Happiness, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Road Trips, Slow Burn, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:02:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 107,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24024034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechanicalBones/pseuds/MechanicalBones
Summary: Connor was an aspiring artist & is now a man on the run, who ends up quite literally stumbling into Gavin's life, a stranger who is adamant on believing that he won't have a future once they get to their final destination.See, that's the thing, everyone has a past, but not everyone gets a future. More often than not, someone's past will haunt them like an angry ghost making home inside their body, leaving their future looking rather bleak.Alternatively: The road trip where Gavin & Connor help show each other that there is still some goodness in the world.
Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed
Comments: 169
Kudos: 196





	1. Hostage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spacebiotics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebiotics/gifts).



> I couldn't get this idea of a road trip/hitchhiker AU out of my head, so here we are. I wasn't originally planning on posting this as I already have a fic in progress, but was convinced to do so!  
>  **Important:** There is the beginning sexual assault scene near the start of this story! It is cut off relatively quickly before it goes too far, but it is still there, so please read with caution if that may affect you.  
> There are also some rather heavy themes that revolve around the two main character's backstories that aren't explained but commonly implied, so just keep that in mind. Please heed the tags!  
> Other than that, if anyone chooses to read this, then I hope you enjoy it & I'll try to update it every few weeks!<3

Connor wasn’t entirely sure how he got here. Okay, that was a lie. He knew how he got here, just not… _here._

Sitting in a car with a complete stranger, one who looked worse for wear than he did.

Which, was saying something considering he, y’know, just got the shit beat out of him by a guy twice his size.

A silence filled the car, the car that smelled a little too heavily of cigarette smoke & old coffee, & Connor leaned his head against the cool glass of the window as he backtracked over the events of the night that landed him here.

He had pulled up into a parking lot that sat behind a motel somewhere in the middle of Idaho that he was planning on staying in for the night. It was one of those shitty little one-star rated ones, the type that you would most definitely get murdered in if you looked at anyone or anything other than your own two fucking feet.

He had been sitting in Hank’s shitty little car, a black Volvo 240 that was too fucking old to still be running in 2038, for about thirty minutes, procrastinating, as he often did.

Hank had let him take the car, told him to change the plates the moment he left Oregon. He did. Get it spray painted, or better yet, ditch the car completely & get a new one. He didn’t.

“Nobody can ever find you, Son.” Hank had said. “Do not let anyone know your true identity, you hear me?” His voice rough with one too many emotions that he tried a little too hard to keep to himself. “Go far, far away. Don’t tell me where, I can’t know. Just go.” 

So Connor left.

He still felt a little awful over the fact he had to leave Hank behind, leaving the man to fend off his demons for himself seemed a little unfair. Sure, he had Nines, but Nines was often too busy to care for Hank’s addiction. 

Perhaps Connor having to fight off his own demons when it came to addiction made him want to spend as much time as he could trying to help Hank fend off his. Connor had always helped him pick up the pieces of himself that he scattered while drunk & now, well, Hank would be alone. Just as Connor now was.

Alone.

But how could he complain? When he had brought it on himself? 

“Was it worth it?” His brother had asked one day when he came home covered in blood that wasn’t completely his own.

_No._

“Yes.” He had replied without missing a beat.

Alone. 

He was alone. No Hank, no Nines. No-one. 

Pushing those feelings of sadness deeper & deeper down, Connor distracted himself with counting out the money he had. Again. A habit Connor often did while procrastinating. He would neurotically do something over & over again, until the shakiness in his hands subsided, until the rapid beating of his heart calmed some, until his body felt like his again.

He had $336. Miscounted it the third time & totaled it to $319. So he counted again. Definitely $336. That’s all he had to his name.

That was his life now - a shitty Volvo that he’d inevitably have to sell, three hundred bucks & a bag of clothes. No family, no dog, no home. Not anymore. 

$336 to get him from Oregon to Michigan. 

$336 to start all over again.

That, was the cold, hard truth that hurt the most.

After deciding he couldn’t procrastinate leaving the safe confines of his car any longer, Connor finally stepped out & pulled his jacket tighter around himself as the wind picked up. 

There was a dampness to the air, as if it couldn’t quite yet decide if it wanted to rain or not.

Connor slung his shitty backpack over his shoulder after putting half of his money in the inner pocket, the other half split between his two shoes. Better to be safe than sorry.

He was used to having to hide his money, so this was simply force of habit.

He then locked the car & headed around the side alley to get to the front entrance of the motel. 

Unease settled in his stomach.

The buzzing of the flickering, neon pink ‘MOTEL’ sign did little to calm the nerves that were swimming around the base of his stomach. At this point, those nerves had taken up full residency inside Connor’s body & it didn’t look as though they were going to be leaving any time soon.

He tipped his head, looking up at the neon sign that had an obnoxiously large pink arrow pointing to the front entrance to the building, as if you needed to be directed towards the piece of shit building. It wasn’t exactly missable.

_‘Hey! Come here if you want to get chopped up into tiny pieces in your sleep!’_

That was the vibe the place put off, but it was all Connor could afford if he still wanted some money left by the time he got to Michigan.

How… miserable.

Sucking in a deep breath, ignoring the way it shook as he exhaled, Connor headed to the front desk with his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“A room for the night, please.” He spoke up, a little too politely for a place like this.

Nothing.

“Excuse me?”

Still nothing.

Connor’s brows furrowed together & he awkwardly glanced around the small room. Behind the man that was at the desk, he caught sight of a small board on the back wall. _‘16 days accident free’._ Huh, weren’t those signs meant for places that housed heavy machinery? Or, y’know, fucking prisons?

He found himself wondering what happened sixteen days ago as if it were of any relevance to him. Well, he knew what happened six days ago in his own life. But not sixteen days ago in fucking Idaho.

A soft shudder ran down Connor’s spine & he could do little to stop it. “Excu-”

“I heard you.” The motel clerk muttered in an angry tone, a drastic difference to Connor’s voice. One that much better matched the setting. He didn’t look up from his phone as he added on, “$100.”

Connor faltered. 

$100? For one night? 

“Oh… I, uh, I thought your sign said $45.” Connor’s voice was still too fucking soft. Too kind. Too out of place. 

Finally, the man decided to look up from his phone & made a show of raking his eyes over Connor’s whole body, leaving him shifting nervously from foot to foot. 

The man smirked a little, even went as far as to lean to the side in his chair, tipping his head as if to take stock of the rest of Connor too.

_Did he just check out my ass?_

Another shudder. 

“Well I say $100.” He stated bluntly, leaning back in his chair with a perverse smirk sitting on his lips still. “Unless… Pretty boy like you…” The man cocked an eyebrow as he left his sentence unfinished, as though he expected Connor to piece everything together.

Unfortunately, from personal experience, Connor knew exactly what the man wanted.

“Oh. Well, never mind then. Thanks anyway.” Connor kept up with the polite tone, hoping that it would somehow mask the nerves that were threatening to have his voice shake. 

He spun around, hand resting on the door handle, ready to leave. Fuck it, he could sleep all cramped up in his car. It was better than the shitty motel with the flickering lights anyhow.

Despite the clerk being about twice his size, somehow, Connor didn’t quite register the man standing up, or the sound of footsteps. 

He did, however, register the feeling of the man pressing himself right up against his back, pinning him against the door. He registered the hands on his hips that forcefully pulled them back so his ass was pressed against the man’s crotch.

He registered the breath that reeked of old, bitter beer as lips pressed against his ear to murmur, “C’mon, baby, don’t be like that. I can drop $50 from the price if you behave.”

_‘If you behave.’_

Connor had to resist the urge to gulp & swallow down the lump that was forming in his throat. He couldn’t show that he was afraid. Predators always loved it when their prey was afraid.

Connor would know.

The man began to kiss down Connor’s neck, one of the hands that was on his hip sliding around to press over his crotch, palming at him through his jeans. 

Connor’s whole body froze. 

_No. No. Not again._

But when he opened his mouth to speak, to say no, to say something, anything, no words came out. Like a deer in fucking headlights, he was frozen. Connor’s past began to creep up on him, the touches reminding him of the touches from before. Touches that terrified him. Traumatised him. Touches that led him out of Oregon in the first place.

The man was grinding his hips against Connor's ass & he couldn’t fucking miss the feeling of a hardening cock pressing against him.

_Please stop._

“I’ll show you a good time.” The man all but purred against his ear. 

It made his stomach twist into uncomfortable knots that he knew wouldn’t be able to get undone for a long while. The man then murmured something else equally as fucking disgusting, but Connor didn’t catch onto it. He sort of zoned out, it was the only way he could cope. The only way he could keep himself from falling apart.

When the hand moved from his crotch to unbutton his jeans, Connor, still unable to will his feet to fucking move, allowed his mind to wonder elsewhere instead. Memories. Good ones. What little amount of those that he had.

A hand slipped beneath his boxers, grabbing at him a little too roughly, causing a choked sob to escape his throat that was a little too tight. Connor just bowed his head, drawing in a sharp breath, ready to just… Let it happen.

Before he allowed his eyes to screw tightly shut, Connor noticed a plant pot on the windowsill beside the door. It was pathetic, really. The small plant had long since died, nothing but rotted, dead leaves, wilted & sad. He wondered if that’s what his insides looked like. It sure did feel like it.

It sat in a terracotta plant pot with a small yellow happy face badly painted on it.

It was almost as though it was mocking him.

He hated it. He wanted to smash it. To let out that anger that he tried so hard to push down, down, down.

So, that’s just what he did. 

As the man’s filthy hand roamed over Connor’s body, as the sound of a belt buckle jingling filled the room, Connor willed his body to fucking move. Just a little bit. 

With the man distracted with his own belt, heavily breathing against Connor’s neck, Connor reached out a hand, intentionally pressing his hips back to try & play into the situation a little better & grabbed the little plant pot.

Swallowing down his fear, Connor forced his body to spin around, using the momentum to smash the pot right against the left side of the man’s face. 

It smashed upon impact, pieces of terracotta falling to the floor, some jabbing right into Connor’s palm from the sheer force he used as dirt fell all over the man’s shoulder.

The clerk dropped to the floor due to the sheer surprise of the attack & Connor used this as his moment to fucking pelt it out of the door. 

His jeans were unbuttoned & his fly was undone, shirt untucked & boxers were shifted uncomfortably from where the bastard had shoved his hand into them, but Connor just didn’t care. All that fucking mattered was that he got his feet to move. To run. To head towards his car that was parked out back. To get away.

He was always just trying to get away.

Without looking back, Connor ran through the side alley, grateful that he still had his backpack, still had his money. Because that’s really what it all came down to. Him needing to keep his fucking money. 

He sort of wondered if he just paid that $100, would any of this have happened? Or would that have opened up new doors to new terrors? Who fucking knew. All he was sure of was that he needed to fucking leave. That, & he was going to be scared to be alone in a motel for a long time coming.

He held his bleeding hand close to his chest as he came to a sudden halt in the parking lot.

The _empty_ parking lot.

_No, no, nonono-_

Where the fuck was his car?!

The sound of footsteps falling heavily on the concrete filled his ears, the sound of angry, heavy breathing & Connor knew exactly who was coming.

_Shit._

A glance over his shoulder was enough for Connor to see that yep, the man had caught up to him & oh fuck was he fucking angry. There was blood running down the left side of his face & Connor wasn’t entirely sure if he had ever seen somebody look at him with that much undiluted ire before.

Okay, he had. Once. But he had been trying to suppress that still way too fresh memory. To push it down with that anger he had, to hide it away to a point where he could convince himself that none of it ever happened.

How foolish.

Connor went to run, he really did have his mind set on running as fast as he fucking could, but the man was faster. How? He had no fucking clue.

He had no fucking clue about a lot of things these days. 

Connor had got all of three fucking strides away before he was tackled to the floor, the weight of the larger man practically crushing him as he face planted the rough concrete.

Fucking _ouch._

Connor was quick to flip himself over onto his back so he could attempt to kick the man off of him, despite those attempts being relatively futile given the size difference.

The clerk seemed somewhat amused by this pathetic attempt at putting up a fight & he was quick to force his weight down so Connor was pinned to the floor. When Connor reached up his hands to try & shove the man away, the man simply grabbed both of Connor’s wrists between one of his way-too-fucking-big hands & pinned them above his head against the concrete.

“Oh you are really going to wish you hadn’t run away, little bunny.” The man grinned, his words dripping with a venom that had Connor’s skin crawling. 

There was blood still dripping down the man’s head & Connor was beginning to regret not smashing the plant pot a little closer to, well, his actual facial features. To get smashed pieces of terracotta in the man’s eyes so he couldn’t see the fear on Connor’s face. So he couldn’t see if Connor was ‘pretty’ or not when he looked so afraid.

He was now face to face with the man rather than having him behind him, so Connor had a little more bravery this time to try & wriggle to break free.

“Let me go.” He rasped out as confidently as he could, trying to hide the terror in his voice, not that it worked, not in the slightest. But if he could fool himself into thinking that he was a good person, then maybe he could fool himself into thinking he was a fearless one too.

The man simply shook his head, pressing his hips down against Connor’s as Connor tried to buck up to free himself. It was disgusting just how much the clerk was enjoying this.

“You sound sweeter when you beg.” There was the man’s rough voice again & not even a few seconds later, it felt as though someone had let off a little explosion in Connor’s head. 

A fist collided with Connor’s jawline with so much force, it had his head knocking back against the concrete & he was sure that his brain rattled around his skull.

Connor drew in a shaky breath, trying to think of what Nines would do or say if he were trapped in a situation that looked this bleak. He always seemed to have a way with his words. Talking his way out of anything & everything.

“Didn’t think that plant pot meant that much to you.” Was all that Connor could get out, trying to make light of a situation that most definitely wasn’t going to end with him walking away.

Yeah, so much for trying to be more like his little brother. He just came off as a sarcastic asshole. Although, he did like the way his voice sounded when it reeked of sarcasm over nerves. If he got out of this alive, perhaps he would have to practice sounding a little more confident like that. Or not. It may get him in more trouble that he didn’t need.

“I should fuck up that pretty face of yours for what you pulled back there, bitch.” Another punch. This time to his nose & the sound of knuckles cracking cartilage was unmissable. It had him cringing as a pained yelp escaped his throat.

Another punch. Then another. Then another.

Every inch of his face felt as though someone had come along & set fire to every single nerve & Connor was helpless to try & stop it.

Well, almost helpless. The more punches that were thrown at his face, the more the man’s grip on Connor’s wrists loosened. 

Using that to his advantage, Connor yanked at his hands, managing to get one free, which he then used to hook his arm haphazardly over his face in a pathetic attempt to shield himself from the abuse he was enduring.

This didn’t exactly stop the punches that were fueled by such a sudden, scarily strong, blind rage, but it did aid in Connor not losing any teeth. Miraculously.

As he lay there, getting pummeled by a man who now seemed intent on killing him in a seedy motel parking lot, Connor ultimately decided that karma had to exist.

This was his comeuppance for his sins back in Oregon. This is what he got instead of life in prison. This is what he deserved. To be stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere with a bloodthirsty rapist. _Again._

Perhaps history really did repeat itself.

Connor had to let out a pathetic laugh at that, spluttering blood from his mouth from where he had bit at his tongue from one of the punches.

With surge of energy, Connor moved his arm so he could throw his own punch, it wasn’t exactly strong, but it was still a punch & it still felt fucking good. He then squirmed again, twisting as much as he could so he could break free, flipping onto his front with the intent on dragging himself up into a standing position.

Bad fucking idea.

He was on his front & the man was pressed against his back again.

There was that anxiety. Again. The type that wrapped itself around his muscles, causing them to be so stiff that he just couldn’t move. 

He couldn’t let it happen again. No, not again.

Connor’s hands scrabbled at the concrete floor, one of them still fucking bleeding with splinters of terracotta in it, as he tried to drag himself out from underneath the man. 

His hands fucking hurt, his face ached in a way that it hadn’t in a very, very long fucking time & all Connor could do was desperately will his body to get out with what little strength he had left. 

Somehow, he did.

He managed to drag himself out from underneath the weight of the man, even as the man grabbed his backpack to try to yank him back down, Connor didn’t think twice. He just reacted.

He shrugged off his jacket, his bag sliding off with it & he ran.

It didn't occur to him in that moment that half of his money was in that bag. Along with the only clothes he had, his phone, his favourite book, his sketchbook & the only food he had in the form of protein bars. All of his belongings were in that fucking bag.

That didn’t occur to him. All that occurred to him was that he needed to run. So that’s exactly what he did.

Again.

He ran & fucking ran. 

Even as the sky started to laugh at how pathetic his life was, so much that it began to cry, rain pelting down against his skin, he ran. It soaked through the only clothes he had, freezing him right through to his bones, but Connor kept running. 

He wasn’t sure how far he ran, he was practically tripping over his own feet from how wobbly his legs were. But he just kept going. He kept going until his chest burned & he had to slow to a halt so he could suck in some much needed breaths. 

His throat was so fucking dry that even breathing hurt. Everything fucking hurt.

Connor tried to swallow, in the hopes that it would dampen his throat & help the air sting less, but there was no such luck. Of course there wasn’t.

His luck had been stolen from him the moment his happiness had back in Oregon. Just one more thing that he wouldn’t be getting back.

That’s when it dawned on him.

His bag was gone.

Everything he had… It was gone. It was all fucking gone.

Sure, he had the $168 that was split between his two shoes, but that was it. No food, no water, no fucking clothes. Nowhere to sleep. No phone to call for a cab.

That motel was the closest place in walking distance where he could stay the night with a roof over his head.

Suddenly, the world began to spin & Connor had to reach a hand out to clutch onto the nearest signpost to steady himself so he didn’t fall the fuck over.

One too many blows to the head, the pain in his hand, the adrenaline running out. It was all mounting together, crashing into him rather suddenly & Connor found himself wrapping his free arm around his stomach as he doubled over to dry heave into a gutter.

He was grateful that it was three in the goddamn morning. It meant there was hardly anybody around to watch him pathetically throw up the non-existent contents of his stomach.

To anyone who didn’t know any better, he was just another drunk guy heading home for the night. 

To anyone who looked a little bit closer, perhaps they would be able to see his creased clothes & disheveled hair. See the blood. See the jeans that he still hadn’t buttoned back up yet because his hand hurt too much to flex his fingers properly.

If anyone cared enough to notice, they would notice the sadness in Connor’s big, brown eyes that silently begged for someone to stop, anyone, just for a moment, to show him an ounce of compassion.

But he didn’t really want that, did he?

Because compassion meant kindness. Kindness meant someone wanted something. People were only nice when they wanted something.

More often than not, this line of thought left Connor feeling rather torn. Torn between wanting someone to care & never wanting someone to get close. Torn between wanting to keep company or never having to worry about someone using him again.

He was torn. Always torn. Always held hostage in his own mind.

Times like these were times that he missed being an addict, because at least then his life had purpose.

After what felt like an eternity of coughing up absolutely nothing, spitting out blood mingled saliva, Connor’s hand slipped from the signpost he was leaning on & he stumbled forward into the road. 

Right as a car was driving full speed towards him.

Everything became a blur as time passed him in both super speed & slow motion all rolled into one. It left him dizzy.

The smell of burnt rubber filled the immediate air around him as screeching tires sliced through the quiet, nighttime air like the cry of a banshee. Wailing angrily at him for getting in the way.

The car came to a halt after it skidded sideways down the road, the passenger door of the car banging against a lamppost with enough force to shake it slightly.

Shit.

Connor was sure he heard the driver shout ‘fuck’ as he tried to stand himself back up, only for time to speed back up a little too quickly. Before he knew it, a car door slammed shut & all of a sudden, there were two hands fisting the front of his shirt, slamming him up against the nearest wall with enough force to have his shoulder blades crying at him from the impact.

Not that he wasn’t used to it.

“The fuck are you doing walkin’ into the fucking road like that?! Drunken piece of fucking garbage!” The man shouted right in Connor’s face. 

If Connor’s brain were not so scrambled & if he were not being pinned against a wall by another angry man, he likely would have pointed out how cute it was that the word ‘fuck’ came out sounding more like ‘phck’.

Connor struggled momentarily, trying to get his bleary vision to focus, but once it did, he found himself unable to look anywhere else besides at what was right in front of him.

He had no idea what he looked like after his beating, but the man that had him pinned didn’t exactly look all too great either.

His mousy brown hair was tousled & out of place. Being this close, Connor could see that it had once been gelled in place but had since fallen out of line. By a lot.

There was a purple bruise forming beneath one of the man’s eyes, which almost got lost in the heavy bags that sat there. There was a split in his lip, the cut trailing down the side of his chin & getting lost in scruffy facial hair.

“I’m not drunk.” Connor whispered softly, brown eyes meeting lush forests of green with hints of grey.

He felt the man’s grip loosen ever so slightly, even more so when he seemed to notice that Connor was in no way fighting back. Why would he? He was too tired.

There was a long silence, one that consisted of the stranger studying Connor’s features. If the man’s eyes were any more glassy, Connor was sure that he’d be able to see his reflection in them & judge if he looked as shit as he was feeling.

“Not drunk? Then you must be pretty fuckin’ stupid! You know you’re gonna pay for the fuckin’ damages, right?!” 

Oh.

Oh dear.

“Right.” Connor nodded numbly, searching the man’s angry face for any indication that he was going to beat the shit out of him. It didn’t look that way. Maybe this stranger was too tired too.

“Shoulda just fuckin’ hit ya to put you out of that misery you’re wallowing in, huh? Look at’cha.” The stranger took a step back, completely letting go of Connor so he could actually look at him. 

Like, really, really look at him.

Remember what he had said about somebody wanting to notice that he wasn’t okay?

Yeah, well, he changed his mind.

He saw the way the stranger’s face went from angry to confused. To sad, to confused again as he looked over Connor’s body. The man took in his fucked up face, the blood smeared across his rain drenched shirt, his hand & his eyes lingered for a moment on Connor’s unbuttoned jeans before said eyes finally found their way back to his face.

The man’s head jerked away to look in the direction he had come from as the sound of sirens in the distance came into earshot. He then looked back to Connor again, looking a little more on edge now.

That bled through to his voice too. “C’mon. We need to go.”

_“We?”_

“Yes. _We._ You’re paying for my fucking damages. Let’s go.” The stranger strode straight back towards his car, getting into the driver’s side & slamming the door shut as he kicked the car into gear, swinging it around so the passenger side was right in front of Connor.

The damages now on show for his swimming vision to see. 

Shit. 

Getting that dent fixed would cost exactly how much fucking money Connor had hidden away in his shoes.

The longer Connor stood there staring at the dent, contemplating if trying to make a run for it would even be worth it, the longer it served to shorten the stranger’s already short temper.

“Get in the fucking car!”

So Connor did.

The tires screamed as the rubber failed to grip at the road as the stranger spun the car around so he could speed off in the opposite direction to the growing sound of the sirens.

Connor wasn’t entirely sure why he decided to get in the car with the angry stranger, but it seemed better than the alternative. Whatever the fuck that was.

But he couldn’t help but feel as if this was it. 

That this was how he was going to fucking die. 

In sopping wet clothes, with the taste of bile & blood in his mouth. Killed by an angry stranger all because he stumbled in front of his car after a really, really bad fucking day.

He was beginning to think that the stranger had a valid point when he said that he should have just hit him to put him out of his misery.

So there Connor was, sitting in the passenger side of a stranger’s car, the smell of old coffee & stale cigarettes overwhelming the smell of his own blood. But he welcomed it.

He rested his head against the cold glass of the window as the man drove & it helped to sooth the pounding in his head.

Connor stayed silent. Ever so silent. So did the stranger. 

Or at least, he did. Up until the stranger drove the car around the corner & pulled into the parking lot of the motel that Connor had just run from-

_No, no, not here. Anywhere but here._

“No… No, please.” Connor rambled, rather abruptly cutting through their silence & it earned him a rather disgruntled, puzzled look from the stranger.

“It’s a fucking motel.”

Connor’s jaw clenched & he drew in a few deep breaths, looking over to the stranger with a pleading look in his eyes. “Could we maybe s-stop at a different motel?” 

The man gave Connor another one of those once overs. Not like the motel clerk did. No. There was nothing perverse about the way this man did it. This man did it in a way that had him trying to read all of Connor’s body language. Taking in the non-verbal hints at the situation.

Either the stranger heard the waver in Connor’s voice, or it was something else entirely, but with a belligerent groan, he nodded. He pulled out of the parking lot & took a few back roads, as if he were intentionally avoiding the main street.

Huh.

Connor didn’t ask. Just as the stranger didn’t ask about his beaten face.

“You’ll owe me for the extra gas money too.”

Connor fell quiet at that, looking down into his lap, using his non-injured hand to try to finally, fucking finally, button up his jeans. He failed miserably.

“I don’t have any money.” Connor whispered shamefully, he wouldn’t bring up the money in his shoes. “It got stolen.”

“Here, I can help with that.” 

Connor wasn’t aware that the car had come to a stop on one of the back roads, he also wasn’t aware that the stranger was leaning over the center console. Until he was too close.

The man’s hands reached out to Connor’s jeans, to the button & fly.

_‘I don’t have any money.’_

_‘I can help with that.’_

_No. No, please. Please not you too._

“I-” Connor began, both of his hands flying up to grip the man’s wrists a little too tightly, stifling a wince at the sudden pressure on his wounded hand. He wasn’t sure what made him brave enough to grab the stranger’s wrists, when he knew full & well that the man could kill him right there & nobody would care, but he couldn’t… He couldn’t be touched again. He already felt too fucking filthy. “Please don’t touch me.”

His voice was meek, barely there, but he could have sworn that it was deafening in the silent car. The only other sound was the rain hammering against the roof. Just bordering soothing. Shame he was, y’know, trapped in a car with a stranger who had decided to take him hostage.

Was it really being taken hostage? When he went willingly?

Was he a killer? If it was in self defense?

More questions that would cycle around Connor’s mind until someone inevitably killed him. Perhaps this stranger would be the one to do that. Perhaps he would be okay with that.

The man’s hands immediately went limp in Connor’s grip & he simply nodded. Then, he slowly sat back in his seat & that was when Connor finally let go. 

They exchanged a look. A look that Connor couldn’t quite describe. But it was one that hinted ever so subtly at the chance of there being some sort of silent understanding. One that didn’t need words.

One that Connor didn’t need to explain aloud because if this man had a brain, he’d be able to piece everything together rather quickly without Connor needing to say it. He wasn’t sure he liked that. There was a sense of vulnerability that came with it.

“Glove box.” 

“Huh?”

“First-aid kit. In the glove box.” The man sounded rather put off at repeating himself, the irritated tone that was ever present in his words seeming a little more prominent.

“Oh.” Connor used his good hand to open the glove box compartment, actively choosing to avoid looking at the pistol that was sitting in there & instead found the little travel first-aid kit & pulled it out.

He didn’t ask about the gun.

Just as the stranger didn’t ask about him not wanting to be touched.

For a moment, Connor stared rather dumbly down at the first-aid kit before deciding to put it between his knees so he could get the zipper open with one hand. The stranger just watched. He didn’t offer to help, even when Connor struggled to rip open an antiseptic wipe.

Connor was beginning to think he liked it that way. 

The less nice the man was, the less Connor would owe him.

Connor proceeded to clean down his hands, wincing as the chemicals in the wipes burned at his broken flesh. Folding that wipe in half as to not use too much of the stranger’s supplies, he pulled down the little mirror & the man wordlessly flicked on the interior light so Connor could see what he was doing better.

“Thanks.” He wanted to say something more, what, he didn’t know yet, but he just… wanted to say something else. But then he saw his own reflection & all of his thoughts got lost somewhere. 

Instead? Connor laughed.

Pathetically quiet & breathy, but he laughed. 

The left half of his face was already bruising. There was a split in his cheekbone & blood caked around his nose. His lower lip swollen with a deep gash in it that sort of mirrored the one that the stranger had. 

There was a lot of blood. Was that all from his nose? How the fuck had it splattered up half of his face? Wait, how did he get out of that parking lot? Fuck if he remembered right now.

He looked so fucked up, what else was he supposed to do but laugh? Even if laughing hurt his dry throat & put too much pressure on his chest, causing more pain to bloom there. It wasn’t long before Connor’s laughter turned into tears that slipped down his cheeks, creating little clear trails in the blood. 

If you would have asked him last year, hell, last month, if he saw himself sitting in a possible murderer’s car, sobbing at his own fucking reflection, he would have laughed in your face. 

But here he was.

Was he sitting in the car with a possible murderer? Or was this stranger sitting in the car with one?

He shakily brought the wipe up to get as much blood from his face as possible, unable to stop his features from scrunching up in pain in the same way they had while he was cleaning his hand.

Carefully, Connor then managed to apply a few butterfly stitches to the gash on his cheekbone to hold it together. 

If he put those little stitches over his heart & soul, would they hold those together too?

He looked down to his hand that was bleeding again. He never did get those little splinters out. Pressing his hands into the concrete when he escaped only served to push them in deeper. 

Great. Just what he needed.

Connor inspected his hand beneath the light. To see if it was worth the effort or if he should just let the little shards get into his bloodstream, travel to his heart & stab him from the inside out. As he got lost in his thoughts, the stranger had quietly taken the first-aid kit & had taken out a roll of bandages, tweezers & another antiseptic wipe.

“Allow me?” His voice was still rough, but if Connor wasn’t mistaken, it sounded as though he was genuinely trying to make it sound softer than it actually was.

Connor looked to his hand, then to the stranger. “I think there’s pieces stuck in there-”

As if him inspecting it & pressing at his palm wasn’t enough of a giveaway already.

Still though, Connor held out his hand, grateful that the man had asked first & didn’t make a move to touch him until Connor had initiated it. He liked that.

One of the stranger's calloused hands came up to hold his in place as he used the other to carefully dig out the little pieces of terracotta using the tweezers.

It fucking hurt. Like someone was jabbing him over & over with a tiny razor-blade. Connor needed a distraction so he didn’t yank his hand away.

“Sorry about your car.” _Sorry for being an inconvenience._

Nothing.

The man stayed far more focused on picking at Connor’s hand & when Connor flinched at a particularly sharp pain, the man first gripped tighter, before immediately loosening his grip as though realising that Connor may not like that he was being held tighter.

“I think he gave me a concussion.” _Which is why I fell into the road. I wasn’t trying to step out in front of your car intentionally._

Still nothing.

“I w-”

“Stop.” The man snapped at the same time as he yanked out the last shard of terracotta, a little too harshly & flicked it out of the window. When Connor just hissed slightly in pain, the man took another wipe. He first cleaned the tweezers, then wiped down Connor’s hand once more. “I don’t care.”

Right.

Didn’t care about his car? Or about the concussion?

The man wiped more blood from Connor’s hands & deep down, Connor knew that no matter how much he washed them, how much he scrubbed at his hands until they were raw & bleeding, they would never truly be clean.

The stranger made quick work of bandaging Connor’s hand with absolutely flawless execution, as though he had done it a thousand times before. Maybe he had. Maybe he was a medic or something rather than a killer.

Connor didn’t ask about that one either.

With his hand now bandaged up & the first-aid kit tucked back into the glove box, Connor hesitantly flexed his fingers before finally getting to button up his jeans. He zipped up the fly & let out a loud sigh of relief that he didn’t know he needed to get out.

The stranger cleared his throat, catching Connor’s attention so when he looked over, he saw he was holding out a bottle of water to him. He also noticed the bruising around those knuckles. Not that he brought it up.

Connor gingerly took it, only taking a few sips before giving it back, not wanting to take too much. The man had already done enough.

The engine purred to life again. They started driving again. 

Connor didn’t know where they were going. To a new motel? To hell?

A shiver ran down Connor’s spine as he curled his legs up in the seat, despite knowing it would bring him cramp later on. But his rain drenched clothes were freezing at this point, even more so considering it was the middle of fucking December. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the stranger crank up the heat. For the first time in, well, he wasn’t sure how long, an ever so subtle smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 

He didn’t like it.

It hurt. It pulled at the split in his lip & had tears pricking in the corners of his eyes.

Surely there was some form of dramatic poetic ideology in the concept of a smile causing pain.

His breath came out shuddery, perfectly matching his shivering body & he could literally see his own breath, it was so cold.

But he said nothing. Didn’t ask for the heat to be cranked up further, didn’t ask for a spare jacket. He didn’t ask for anything. Because he didn’t want to owe the man. 

So Connor stared out of the window with heavy lidded eyes, watching as the rain blurred the neon lights of the city in the distance. Sitting there, it helped him pretend as if it were the rain making his vision a little blurry, rather than the fact he had his face beat in & had swimming vision ever since.

Hues of pink & blue, that illuminated the night sky from the buildings. It was beautiful. 

For a moment, despite being too cold, Connor felt at peace. The soft pitter-patter sound of the rain falling against the roof, the droplets trickling down the window he was leaning against, the blurred city lights painting a stunning background as though its inhabitants were not ugly, ugly monsters. 

Sometimes, he thought the world was trying to fool everyone with its beauty. With its buzzing, pink motel signs.

_'Look! Look how beautiful I am! How could I ever hurt you?’_

Yeah. Right. He had believed that once. Look where it got him.

That was the last thought that passed through Connor’s mind before his eyes got a little too heavy & he drifted off to sleep, curled up in the passenger side seat of a stranger’s car, in soaking wet clothes & in pain. 

He sort of hoped he didn’t wake up. 

  
  


Gavin had been driving for about thirty minutes by the time he heard the ever so soft breathing turn into something that was a little deeper. A giveaway that the man was asleep.

Gavin definitely didn’t look over at him. He definitely kept his eyes on the empty road ahead & he most definitely did not pull over momentarily to reach a hand out to check for the man’s pulse when that breathing got a little too quiet for his liking.

He was grateful the touch didn’t wake the stranger & he almost felt bad for it, for putting his hands on him without asking first. But it was only a press of two fingers to his neck, just to see if he was going to have to dump a body in the river tonight or not.

He’d rather not. So, he was relieved to feel a very faint pulse beneath his fingers. He didn’t do it because he cared. He did it for his own sake. Gavin never did anything out of care. He was selfish.

Or at least, that’s what he convinced himself.

He had chosen to pull over in a spot that was shadowed behind an abandoned house. It looked as though it had been engulfed in flames once upon a time but it was now left vacant & hollow. 

If he were poetic, perhaps he would say it was relatable. But he wasn’t poetic, pain was just pain. Nothing more, nothing less. The vacancy in his chest was just that.

So when the engine was turned off, the car blended into the shadows; & they could momentarily disappear.

His eyes were too heavy to try driving to the next motel, so bunkering down in the car for a few hours to attempt to sleep seemed like the best option.

He didn’t much care for if he drove his car off of a bridge because he was too tired, drowning himself, never to be seen again. It would probably be a good thing, the world would be thankful.

But it would be unfair to dump that fate on a stranger who had clearly already been through too much. 

But maybe in doing so, it would be putting the stranger out of his clear misery. Maybe that’d be a good thing. Sometimes he wished someone would do that for him.

The police sirens had long since faded, but that didn’t mean Gavin didn’t flinch at the slightest of sounds. Always on guard.

He had to be. Who knew when his past would come creeping up on him again, ready to hit him from behind & drag him back to places he was trying desperately to escape from.

As quietly as he could, Gavin reached into the backseat of his car & grabbed the folded up, cosy blanket that he kept there. He & Tina had knitted it together a few years back. Black & white checkered patches all stitched together to create one big, cosy blanket that always smelled like home.

He wrapped it around himself as he curled up in his seat. The backseat was calling his name. Calling for him to go back there so he could stretch his legs out rather than sleeping cramped up. But, he didn’t trust letting his guard down like that. He had to stay by the wheel. Ready to drive. Ready to flee. Always ready to disappear.

His phone rang from within his pocket & Gavin had never answered so quickly before; he feared the sudden sound would wake the stranger. Thankfully, it didn’t. 

Not that he cared, he told himself. He just didn’t want to hear the man trying to talk to him.

He didn’t even glance at the caller ID, he just slammed his thumb down onto the green button & held the phone to his ear, talking in a hushed whisper. “What?”

He never was one for manners.

 _“Hi to you too, Dickbag.”_ Tina’s voice filled the other end & Gavin was struck with an overwhelming sense of relief. His shoulders sagged from where they were tensed & he rested his head back against the window from where he was sitting sideways in his seat, definitely not looking at the sleeping stranger.

When he made no effort to speak, Tina did. She always did.

_“You were supposed to phone me to say you’re okay… Gav, are you okay?”_

_No._

“Yes.” He whispered.

Tina made a soft sound, a hum that she often did when she wasn’t convinced. She never did believe Gavin’s lies. _“Why are you whispering? Do you need help?”_

It wasn’t the first time Gavin had whispered to Tina on the phone, whispering begged for her to come & pick him up, to find him when he couldn’t make out any street signs, to not call someone, to not tell anyone even though she was a cop & she could help.

This time though, there wasn’t a body. Well, there was. But this one was still breathing, this one hadn’t died lying beside him, terrified & beaten. No, this one was just terrified & beaten. But breathing. He was still breathing.

He was alive, which was more than what Gavin could say about himself.

He was sure his heart had stopped beating the moment his brother had taken his last breath. He hadn’t been alive since.

 _“Clear your throat if you’re in danger.”_ Tina tried again when Gavin said nothing.

He didn’t clear his throat.

Sure, he was in danger. But, he doubted it was imminent right now.

_“Okay. Clear your throat if you’re alone.”_

Gavin was still watching the stranger. Watching the way his chest rose & fell & wondered what that must feel like. Because although his did the same, it was not without great difficulty. As though he didn’t deserve the oxygen that cycled around his lungs.

Would telling Tina that he wasn’t alone only make her more afraid for his safety? He didn’t want her to care for him as much as she did. He didn’t want her to lose sleep over thinking of him & the implications of him not being alone.

He could be with anyone.

He could be with the man who took his brother away from him. Who was going to get him too. Before he got out & ran. 

Ever so faintly, as quietly as he could as to not wake the stranger, Gavin cleared his throat.

He was alone. Not physically, but deep down he was, where it mattered most.

_“Are you coming home, Gav?”_

_No._

“I don’t know.”

_“Okay.”_

That was the thing with Tina. She never pushed, never questioned too much, for she knew those protective walls would come up & she would lose her best friend for good.

Perhaps she already had.

Gavin released a shuddery breath, one that gave away that he was fucking exhausted & so emotionally drained that a breakdown was right there, waiting at the precipice of his being. Waiting… Waiting. Waiting for that moment of weakness where it could wrack through his body & drown him.

So when Tina heard that breath, as she had many times in the past, she began to talk. About nonsense. She didn’t need to be asked, she knew her best friend well enough at this point to know he needed to hear her to talk about nothing in particular to distract him from his own mind just long enough for him to drift off to sleep.

Only then would she hang up the phone. 

So that’s exactly what happened. Tina began to talk about their cat that Gavin had left behind in their apartment when he decided to get into his car & not look back. She talked about the antics their cat got up to. Trying to climb the curtains only to get stuck, making a jump from the kitchen counter to the center island only to miss & fall.

That made Gavin huff out an ever so faint laugh that hurt his ribs from the bruising that lay somewhere hidden beneath his shirt.

Tina talked a little about work, about the double shifts she was going to have to pull. She spoke about the movie she was currently watching despite it being nearly four in the morning.

Tina had insomnia just as he did. They often curled up on the couch together & watched movies until they passed out for a few hours. Tina would talk to Gavin softly until he fell to sleep, then she would follow shortly after.

She always talked to him to help him fall asleep. Distracting him from his own demons. It was difficult not having that these past few days, if the bags beneath his eyes were anything to go by, his body was struggling to come to grips with it too.

His eyes grew heavier & Gavin held his phone to his ear using his shoulder as he looked down at himself then over at the stranger that was asleep beside him. He ever so gently draped his blanket that was now extra comfy thanks to it absorbing his body heat over the sleeping stranger. 

He didn’t do it because he cared. He did it because he didn’t want to see another fucking dead body lying beside him.

He settled back down as he watched the man snuggle up smaller against the warmth that was no doubt filtering through those soaking wet clothes of his, burying his nose into the soft fabric.

Gavin wasn’t entirely sure why he did what he did. He most definitely wanted this man to pay for the fucking damages that his car had sustained, he wasn’t about to fish money that he didn’t have much of out of his own pocket for it. Not when it wasn’t his fault.

When the stranger admitted to having no money, Gavin could have easily kicked him out of the car, left him bleeding on the side of the road for some other sack of shit to run over instead.

He could have beaten the shit out of him, he could have hurt him, he could have-

Yet, he had cleaned him up. Bandaged up that hand after being sure all the splinters were gone & didn’t miss the way those deep, honey-brown eyes looked almost relieved that he had helped. Thankful.

He pretended he didn’t see it. Just as he pretended he didn’t have a sick sense of understanding as to why the man was afraid of being touched. Why he was throwing up in the middle of the street with his pants undone. Why he didn’t want to go to that particular motel.

He knew the man thought that he was going to _use_ him, when he went to button up his jeans for him after seeing the struggle. The man thought that Gavin was like… Like the _filth_ that plagued this earth.

That beautiful, blood covered face with those sad, frightened eyes. He thought Gavin was going to hurt him. 

Gavin would hurt him, though. He hurt everyone eventually. But not like _that._

Never like that.

Gavin was a fire. Or, he used to be. One that had burned with too much ferocity, charring anyone or anything that got too close. He did it intentionally. It kept him safe.

It’s why he didn’t ask the stranger if he was okay. It’s why he didn’t ask for a name & in return, the stranger never asked for his. For that, he was grateful.

As Tina spoke softly down the phone, Gavin’s eyes slipped shut & he was barely listening. Even with his eyes closed, the image of the stranger opposite was in his head.

He slowly drifted off to sleep & those honey whiskey-brown eyes were at the forefront of his mind, momentarily replacing the awful horrors that usually plagued his dreams.


	2. Graveyard Whistling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even with conversations that last no longer than a few short sentences, the duo slowly begin to learn a thing or two about one another. But the more Connor learns about Gavin, the more questions it brings up. Who exactly is he traveling with?

There was a subtle warmth on Connor’s face as he stirred awake.

He kept his eyes screwed tightly shut as he drew in a few shallow breaths. 

So, he was still breathing? That didn’t mean he was alive though, did it?

There was a dull ache in his head as though he were hungover; that paired with the emptiness in his insides & he was surprised that his stomach didn’t lurch into his throat again.

For a few moments, nothing felt real. For a few moments, he was back in Hank’s apartment, sleeping on the floor beside Hank's bed after wrestling a gun from his hands. Leaning against the edge of the bed as he watched the man that he called his dad pass out from too much alcohol consumption, slurring little ‘I don’t care about you’s & ‘I don’t love you’s under his breath. 

People sure did like to remind Connor that they didn’t care. That they didn’t love him. 

When Hank finally snapped, he would apologise & remind Connor that he didn’t mean it. That he was drunk & it was all just too much to deal with if he wasn’t sober. But ultimately, it was still Connor’s fault that he was-

It was always his fault.

He wasn’t about to allow his mind to spiral down that route, the route that would only inevitably end in him falling apart, so Connor slowly fluttered his eyes open, or, the best he could considering one of them was swollen. It could only be opened half way & it sleepily looked down to what was on him, keeping the cold at bay.

A blanket. 

Huh.

Connor stared down at it for a moment, as if confused by the thing in his still half asleep state before he pulled it closer to his chest & buried his nose against it, inhaling deeply.

It smelled so comforting. Like a warm hug. It smelled like sandalwood, like a crackling fireplace in a cosy apartment. He couldn’t explain it any other way.

It was strange for something so pure to be in the confines of a car that smelled so strongly of cigarette smoke & bad decisions.

Then, realisation dawned that he was sitting in said car, a car that was not his own, with none of his belongings.

In the fog of his dull headache, the events of the day prior returned & Connor let out a soft sigh, hitting his head back against the headrest with a dull thud.

_ A soft sigh.  _ That was his only reaction at having the shit beaten out of him, at having a sleazy guy grab his junk & grind against him, ready to do much, much more.

But Connor had already had the worst happen to him. So anything else that happened, he felt as though he didn’t have the right to be upset over it. To let it bother him. So he just pushed it down, pushed it down with the other memories, his sadness & his anger. He bottled it all away.

He tipped his head to the side to look at the driver’s side.

Empty.

The key wasn’t in the ignition, but the windows were rolled down just barely an inch.

Connor’s brows furrowed together & he looked out the windows to see if he could determine where he was.

Another fucking parking lot. 

This time, there were two other parked cars & there were no neon pink motel signs in sight. He was glad about that, at least.

He did, however, pick up on the fact that the car had been parked in the only spot that wasn’t shadowed by trees. The only spot that allowed the sunlight to filter through the car which explained the warmth on his face that woke him up.

That paired with the blanket that was wrapped around him & the stranger’s simple  _ ‘I don’t care’ _ that was muttered yesterday seemed a little less true.

No. Connor couldn’t think that. Because thinking that meant that he was seeing the good in someone. Seeing the good in people was his downfall, Nines had told him that.

His clothes were a little less soaked through now, sort of like the stranger had hung him out to dry by sitting him in the sun. He couldn’t tell if that was amusing or just downright sad.

They were still damp, still uncomfortable, but at least now he wouldn’t get pneumonia & fucking die. He never did want to die by natural causes.

With another glance around & the stranger nowhere in sight, Connor decided to quench his nerves by being nosy. 

He didn’t have a right to look through a stranger’s belongings, but he needed to do something with his hands. He always needed to do something with his hands.

Connor first leaned over the driver’s side to pull down the sun visor to see if there was anything in there. Hank used to keep a photo of him & Nines in there. Connor had taken it out to keep it safe in his backpack.

He supposed it wasn’t so safe in there after all.

He pushed that thought down. He pushed down the fact he missed his brother, he missed Hank, he missed Hank’s dog, he missed home. Fuck, he missed home. But he had no phone so it wasn’t even like he could call to hear Nines’ voice. 

He had Nines’ phone number memorised though. He used to repeat it over & over again in his mind on bad nights, so if his phone got taken away, as it often did back in Oregon, he could find his way to a payphone, to call Nines. To hear his brother’s voice. To ground him. To remind him that outside of the men that hurt him, there was still good.

There had to be good.

There was nothing in the visor.

He took a glance over to the paperwork that was stuffed into the side compartment of the driver’s door. He could so easily rummage through it, perhaps learn a name for his stranger, but that felt a little too invasive, even by his curious standards. He’d ask for a name later, when he was more comfortable with the thought of giving out his own.

Deciding the driver’s side was of no use, Connor began to explore the glove-box that was home to the first-aid kit he had used the night before. Or was it technically just a few hours ago? He wasn’t sure.

First-aid kit, a pack of tissues, a charger cable, a few CDs, a Colt 45 pistol.

Connor had seen it last night. He chose not to bring it up. But now the stranger wasn’t here? He couldn’t help himself. He picked up the gun, felt the familiar weight in his hand.

He released the clip to check if it was just for show or not. 

Definitely not just for show.

One bullet was missing. 

Connor was quick to shove the clip back in place, as though hiding the bullets from view meant he could pretend that one wasn’t missing. That he wasn’t in the car with a man who had told him that he should have just hit him with his car to put him out of his misery. In the car with a man who had used one bullet. In the car with a-

Right. He was in the car alone.

The only killer he was with was himself.

The gun weighed heavily in his hand, fit so perfectly, reminding him of-

Connor’s heart began to race. His breath quickened. His hands grew clammy.

_ You’re not back there, Con. You’re okay. Just breathe, just- _

Knuckles rapping against the window had Connor practically jumping out of his own skin & he was quick to shove the gun back into the glove compartment. He slammed it closed with a little too much force as he jerked his head to look out the window.

His stranger.

No, not  _ his.  _ Just… a stranger.

The man shot him a rather pissy glare that was visible even through the aviator sunglasses he was wearing… In the middle of December. Then again, the sun was shining, which was a rare enough occurrence around this time of year, so Connor supposed it warranted the sunglasses. Didn’t warrant the hood sitting on the back of the man’s head though.

Maybe he was hiding.

There was a cigarette sitting between the man’s lips, a to-go cup of coffee in one hand, two plastic bags in the other.

The stranger then walked around the car, sitting back in the driver’s side with a heavy sigh, practically throwing one of the bags he was carrying in Connor’s face.

The other bag was thrown onto the backseat, coffee put in the cup holder, ignition turned on, window rolled down half way to let the smoke circulate.

He said nothing.

So Connor didn’t either. He simply peered into the plastic bag that he had just barely managed to catch before it collided with his already busted nose.

Inside were some snacks, a bottle of water, a small bottle of Tylenol, a fresh pack of band-aids &... Was that a comic book?

Connor stayed staring down at the contents for what seemed like an eternity before finally dragging his eyes up to look at the stranger. The man had his head tipped back, eyes fluttered shut & was ever so slowly exhaling the smoke that he had been holding in his lungs.

His hood was now down with his sunglasses pushed up onto his head, shoving his hair back from his forehead & Connor could see there was another scar running along his head that seemed to pair well with the one that sat across the stranger’s nose. 

He wondered if the man had got them at the same time. He wondered what happened. He wondered, wondered & wondered a little more.

Curiosity, what a terrible thing.

“Tha-”

“I don’t care.”

Right.

The man didn’t even open his eyes, didn’t so much as move a fraction as he spoke. Besides those lips moving, of course. Those lips that were chapped & had a split down them, that were so keen to hold the filter of a cigarette between them as though it were the only thing keeping him alive.

How ironic.

After a silence that was a little too long, after Connor had wolfed down one of the protein bars that was in the bag, chasing that up with a few Tylenol & half of the bottle of water, he finally spoke up, in a voice that was finally less raspy.

“A comic book?”

Another silence. He shouldn’t have expected anything less. 

Connor put the bag between his feet & wrapped the blanket tighter around himself. The man could have asked for it back, but he didn’t.

So Connor kept it huddled around himself as the man began driving again, he kept it it huddled around himself as he watched out the window, wondering where exactly they were heading to next, whether or not it would kill him, whether it-

“You talked in your sleep.”

The car had been so quiet for so long that Connor flinched upon hearing the rough voice fill his ears. 

“Oh… Sorry.” 

Should he be sorry over something he couldn’t help?

“Don’t be. I didn’t catch onto much, tried to ignore it. But you mentioned books. A hero too. So, uh, got you a comic book.”

He brought him a comic book… Because he had heard Connor mention books & heroes in his sleep.

Connor didn’t say that he was likely babbling about his favourite book about a war hero. Not superheroes. He didn’t say that nobody had ever brought him something before besides his brother buying him tiny gifts on his birthday. He didn’t say that he didn’t want him to spend his money on him.

He didn’t say anything. 

If he didn’t say thank you, then the man wouldn’t tell him that he didn’t care.

Another few hours passed by, Connor having read the comic three times over by that point until he finally decided to ask, “Where are we going?”

“Wyoming.” Oh. Well.  It was better than staying in Idaho. That took him one state closer to Michigan.

“Do you live in Wyoming?”

“No. Do you?”

“Obviously not.”

Another silence. They were having lots of those. 

Connor didn’t mind. Hank had told him to travel far, far away from Oregon & not let anyone know who he truly was & that was exactly what he was doing. The quieter he was, the less he would inevitably spill his guts to this stranger. The less likely it was that he would open up. That he would trust him. Befriend him. Like him. Love him- No, no, love was a terrible, terrible thing.

He couldn’t have that now, could he?

Again, Nines had told him on one too many occasions that he was too quick to see good in people. Too quick to  _ want _ to see the good in people.

He saw the good in people back in Oregon for too many years. It stripped him of everything. It ruined him. It took away pieces of him until nothing was left.

He saw the good in bad people & gave little pieces of his heart to them but forgot to save any for himself. So when they stripped him of everything from his clothes to his happiness, his dignity to his spirit, all that was left behind was, well, whatever _ this _ was.

A man with nothing sitting in a stranger’s car as they drove them towards Wyoming because surely whatever this stranger was capable of, then it wasn’t half as bad as what he had already endured.

Should Connor tell him? Tell him that he wanted to go to Michigan to start a new life? Should he tell him why? No, no, what a terrible idea that would be. 

Should Connor ask about him? About why he was in Idaho? Driving a little too quickly away from the sound of sirens? About why he took a lot of back roads? About why he was driving to a new state, clearly not too phased by the idea of having a stranger in his car along for the ride? Why there was a bullet missing-

What if Connor didn’t want to go to Wyoming? Would the man have stopped the car & let him out? Or would he have kept him captive?

“Are you going to kill me?” Connor blurted before he could reel those pesky little words back in.

The stranger faltered for a moment, hands gripping the steering wheel just a little bit tighter, brows creasing together more than they already were, not ever glancing Connor’s way. He never glanced Connor’s way. 

“No.”

“Why?”

_ Why? _

“Because I’m not a bad person.” 

Right.

Because good people keep guns with one bullet missing.

“What about you?” The stranger asked. 

“What about me?”

“Are you going to kill me?” The stranger asked it with far less urgency than Connor did, as though the answer didn’t bother him in the slightest.

“No.”

“Why?”

_ Because whether you realise it or not, you saved me from a man that I would have inevitably gone back to in desperation to have a roof over my head for the night. He would have killed me, he would have hurt me, he would have- _

“Because.”  _ I’m not a good person, but I’m not a bad one either. I killed them because they were going to kill me. It was self defence. _

_ It was self defence. _

_ It was- _

“So we agree to not kill each other?” The man finally cast a glance his way, the tiniest of smirks tugging at the corner of his lips. There was nothing honest about a smirk like that.

The sun was at just the right spot in the sky that Connor could catch onto the lush forests that sat in the man’s eyes, surrounded by stormy clouds. What a beautiful sight indeed. Hypnotic, almost. He wanted more.

Oh dear.

Connor nodded, returning the smirk, but it was a little too wholesome. It sat more like a sad smile that only tugged at the one side of his face because the split in his lip made it too difficult to give a smile that was anything more than microscopic.

He couldn’t help but notice the look of almost disappointment on the man’s face, as though Connor not killing him would be a bad thing.

“So, you’re not going to kill me, but are you holding me hostage?”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

Each conversation they had seemed to go in the same way. Short answers to short questions, nothing that could allude back to either of their personal lives. Then that would be followed by a long silence. Sometimes those silences spanned ten minutes, other times, an hour.

But in between them? Connor asked about the things that were noticeable. The things that were safe to ask about.

He learned that the man loved coffee, loved it like it was his life source. Apparently most of his spare money went on coffee. He said that this was his road trip to find the best coffee in the states. 

He claimed once he found the state, the city, with the best coffee, then that was where he would bunker down. 

Connor knew he was lying. He knew he was running. From what, he had no clue, he didn’t ask. Just as the stranger didn’t ask about him either.

So he laughed with a nod, propping his head on his hand with his elbow resting against the door. Agreeing that a road trip to find the best coffee in the whole of the United States was a brilliant idea.

Even if it was just that. An idea. A lie. A cover story woven to hide the sad, ugly truth.

Connor then learnt that the man’s preferred cigarettes were Marlboro Red, but he’d take what he could get if they were not available. 

In return, the man learnt that Connor didn’t smoke. He took a drag from his ex’s cigarettes every so often, but never smoked a full one to himself.

That was the first time he had brought up his ex.

Connor didn’t elaborate. The man didn’t ask.

Still not knowing each other’s names, the drive fell back quiet. For hours. Five of them.

The only sound filling the car was the soft music playing from the radio. Music that didn’t have any lyrics. Just soft guitars with subtle drum beats. Every so often, the sound of a lighter sparking would catch Connor’s attention & every time he would steal a glance at the stranger.

Cigarette dangling between his lips, one hand on the wheel, the other propping his head up in the same way that Connor’s did, the man in his own bubble, driving as though he were on auto-pilot.

Connor didn’t speak. He just watched.

Watched as the man’s fingers drummed along the wheel in time with those soft beats coming from the radio, the bruising on his skin dancing as his knuckles moved. Watched as he inhaled the smoke, tipped his head a little as he exhaled without bothering to take the cigarette from his lips.

Connor was a little angry that he didn’t have a sketchbook right now. Because that would have been the perfect sight to sketch. To capture, to immortalise forever in graphite on paper that nobody would ever see but him. 

What a perfectly imperfect stranger. 

But his sketchbook was long gone. Somewhere lost in Idaho with everything else he once owned.

When the man shifted a little in his seat, Connor ducked his head & looked away, as though he were going to get into trouble for staring. Perhaps he would. The man didn’t seem to like him all that much.

It was coming up to sometime in the afternoon, if Connor had to guess by the placement of the sun in the sky, by the time they came to a service stop.

Connor was surprised that they had even stopped at all.

He had asked if they could stop, the man had said no. Connor asked again not too long later, the man had said no again.

“Please.”

“I said no!” The stranger shot Connor an irritated glare, running a hand through his hair. At some point, he must have taken the sunglasses off of his head. Connor hadn’t noticed. “We ain’t stopping until we get into Wyoming!”

Connor refused to recoil, refused to hide in on himself. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t look out of the window to divert his gaze from looking at the angry man. 

“I’m sorry, I-” He paused, trying to think of a reason as to why he actually wanted to stop. A reason that wouldn’t sound ridiculous. “I need to stretch my legs.”

It sounded a little bit better than _ ‘we’ve been in the car together for too long & I can feel my anxiety growing. I need to walk. I need to move. I need to remind myself that this body is my own.’ _

The stranger didn’t need to know that.

“I don’t care.” He had repeated his famous line & all that Connor had said in return was, “I know.”

He left it at that. 

But not long after, the stranger decided to pull over at a service stop & shoved ten dollars in Connor’s face. “Go get us some coffee so we can get through the last few hours without crashing & killing ourselves.”

‘We’. 

_ We. _

So Connor did.

He took the money & got out of the car, first stretching enough for his shirt to pull up at the back slightly. He was quick to tug it back down again before anyone could see what lay beneath. Then, he leaned down to fix his hair into a less disheveled state using the wing-mirror.

His face was still a fucking disaster, but he hoped that perhaps it made him look just tough enough that nobody would attempt to strike up a conversation. Especially seeing as blood was still stained across his creased up shirt. It was beginning to seep through the bandages around his hand too.

Connor made his way into the little cafe in the service station, the lights causing him to squint slightly. It was too fucking bright. It hurt his head.

He remembered the stranger telling him that his favourite kind of coffee was coffee with too much sugar in it paired with a shot of vanilla. So Connor ordered him just that, along with a plain, bitter black coffee for himself.

Gavin could leave.

Right now, he could drive away. Leave the man behind & never look back, never think of him again.

He could. He should.

He didn’t.

He thought about it. He thought about it as he glanced around to see if anybody else would see his hitchhiker walk out of the cafe, only to be completely lost when his ride was gone.

He thought about it as he began to reverse, getting all of three inches out of his parking spot before stopping & sighing, slamming his head back a little too hard against the headrest. 

He should have left. If he didn’t leave now, he was going to hurt him. He was going to drag him under into this hell with him & tear him apart. Because that’s what Gavin did to people. That’s all he ever did.

He hurt people.

He didn’t mean to, but he did.

To keep himself safe.

Or so he told himself.

But the image of the stranger walking out of the cafe, two cups of coffee in hand, only to look around all confused when the parking space lay vacant had something in Gavin’s chest twisting uncomfortably.

The image came into his mind of the man getting a ride from someone else. Someone who would hurt him in the way that Gavin never would. 

He shouldn’t care. It wasn’t his problem.

He didn’t care.

He didn’t care.

He didn’t-

Those beautiful, brown eyes. Watching him when he thought he wasn’t looking. He pretended he didn’t see. But he did.

Just as he pretended he didn’t see the scar that ran along the stranger’s back when he had stretched. Just as he pretended he didn’t see the stranger looking at his gun this morning.

He pretended & he pretended. He lied & he lied some more. For that was easier & better than the alternative.

_ You don’t even know his name, Gavin. You don’t know what his intentions are. What if he knows who you are? Knows about what you did? What you’re going to do? _

Well, he got a small, inkling of a feeling that the man’s intentions were to just get away. Just as he was.

The man had nothing. No belongings on him, which meant he had nothing to lose. Except himself. Unless pieces of that were already gone too.

Gavin pushed that thought deep, deep down & instead turned the radio up. As if the sound of the music could drown out his spiraling thoughts.

The stranger was taking a while. Did it really take twenty minutes to get two cups of coffee? Gavin was starting to wonder if maybe the man wouldn’t come back.

He sort of hoped he didn’t. That way he wouldn’t have to live with the guilt of leaving him behind because it wouldn’t have been his fault.

Unfortunately for him, though, as his thoughts were spiraling & beginning to drag him into the scarily dark abyss, but the sound of the passenger side door opening brought him back.

No more than a few seconds later, the stranger with the honey whiskey eyes was sitting back in his car, holding out a red to-go cup of coffee out to him in his non-bandaged hand.

_‘ Nobody’ _was scrawled along the side of it in black Sharpie pen.

Huh.

Gavin took the cup, inspecting the writing after drawing in a deep inhale through his nose to smell the coffee.

Vanilla.

His stranger remembered the vanilla.

That warranted some gratitude. “Thanks, Nobody.”

Gavin’s eyes flickered up to the man opposite, a little smirk sitting on his lips as he waited for some form of reaction. 

In return, the man looked over at him, then to the coffee cup, then his own, then back to meet his eyes again. “She asked me who I was.” Was all he got.

_ Ah. So you said nobody. Because you want to be nobody. Because you want to disappear, just like I do. _

“Your parents must have really not liked you as a baby.” Was all Gavin said instead, taking a sip of the coffee without a care even as it burnt his tongue. It had just the right amount of sugar in it paired with the vanilla shot that Gavin couldn’t help but wonder why the stranger cared enough to remember how he liked his coffee.

“Guess not seeing as they left me & my brother when we were kids.” 

Shit.

Gavin didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to know that his shitty joke could cause some offence. He didn’t need to know anything about this stranger.

But the stranger followed the remark up with a vacant laugh, as though he could play it off as nothing more than an amusing off-hand comment that had no weight to it, that didn’t mean anything at all.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gavin could see the man wrap the blanket back around himself before sipping on his coffee, holding the cup too close to his chest with both hands around it. 

So Gavin silently cranked up the heat in the car, put his coffee in the cup holder & set back on the road so they could get through the last few hours of their drive into Wyoming where they could stop properly for the night in a motel.

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the journey.

_ It’s just a motel.  _

Connor had repeated that line over & over in his mind a few times, as if the more he said it, the more he could believe it. If he believed it couldn’t hurt him, then it wouldn’t.

But that was easier said than done.

When the man had parked up in the lot outside of the motel, grabbed his bag from the backseat & got out of the car, Connor just sat there in the passenger side, trying to will his legs to move, trying to will himself to get the fuck over it.

The worst had already happened to him. So why was he afraid?

The man knocked on the window impatiently, glaring at Connor as he muttered, “C’mon, we don’t have all fuckin’ night.”

But, they did.

They did have all night. 

But Connor could see the way the man glanced around at every sound of movement, even if it was just a can rolling in the breeze. Every tiny sound set him on edge & Connor could tell that he didn’t want to be out in the open, he didn’t want to be where people could see him.

Why? Connor didn’t ask.

He just shakily drew in a few deep breaths to compose himself & slowly stepped out of the car, tipping his head up to look at the motel sign.

This one wasn’t neon pink, it wasn’t neon at all. It was just a shitty sign with half of the lights missing that said the name of the shitty motel they would be staying in for the night.

It wasn’t welcoming at all. 

Then again, motel signs never really were.

“I-” Connor began, but the rest of his sentence got trapped in his throat as it began to close up. 

The man began to walk towards the doors that led to the check-in reception desk.

Connor couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go in there. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he-

Before he knew it, a warm, rough, calloused hand found its way into his & pulled him towards the reception so he had no choice but to follow. 

Connor stared down at their hands in silence. He got so caught up by the gentle touch of a warm hand in his own, got so caught up with the reassuring squeeze as the man asked for a room for the night with two beds, that he didn’t even realise they were already out of the reception & heading up the stairs towards their room.

He was so distracted by the sudden touch, that he forgot about all of the bad ones. He forgot about all of the anxiety that revolved around being in another motel.

But it all came back to him a little too quickly & as the man used the keycard to unlock the door, Connor yanked his hand away.

The man said nothing. Neither did Connor.

They just made their way quietly into the room, Connor idling numbly by the door as he watched the stranger throw his bag down onto the bed that was nearest the wall, leaving Connor with the one nearest the door.

Was Connor going to sleep in his clothes that he had been wearing since he had got in the car with this stranger? The clothes that had been drenched through but had finally dried? The clothes that were dirty from being pinned to the floor, the clothes that had blood stains on them, the clothes that the clerk had tried to get into-

Connor supposed he wouldn’t sleep.

So, he didn’t. He just lay on the less than comfy bed, hands clasped together behind his head as he stared up at the cracks in the ceiling.

He sort of wished that there would be a sudden downpour of rain, that it’d rain so heavily that the roof couldn’t handle it, that those little cracks would turn into fissures & the roof would fall through, crushing him in the bed & killing him there on the spot.

He didn’t want to have a new life. He didn’t want to start again. He just wanted to go back. Go back to Nines, to Hank, to Hank’s home & his dog. He wanted to go home.

But he knew he never could.

He could hear the man in the bed that sat beside his breathing ever so softly. It wasn’t deep enough to indicate that he was sleeping, but it was barely there too, as though he wasn’t breathing at all.

There was a strange sort of weight in the air that surrounded them, it amplified when Connor found himself wanting to speak but didn’t know what to say. He wondered if the man felt the same way, or if he really didn’t care.

It took about ten minutes of Connor staring at the ceiling before he finally tipped his head to the side to glance at the man that was lying in the other bed, on his side, back facing Connor. 

“It's not ‘Nobody’. It’s Con.” Connor finally whispered into the darkness. 

It wasn’t complete darkness, though. 

The curtains were so faded & washed out, that even though they were closed, the light from the sign outside was leaking through & illuminating the lower half of the room.

There was a long silence, one that had Connor being momentarily convinced that he had misjudged the man’s breathing & he was in fact asleep after all.

Then, “What? Short for convict?”

Connor laughed at that. He couldn’t help it. It was only a tiny laugh, more like a snort of air at being caught so off guard at something that was so ridiculously true & the stranger didn’t even know it.

Convict. Was that a step up or down from ‘Nobody’?

“Short for Connor.”

He could almost hear Hank chastising him in his mind for allowing someone to know his name, but he was so fucking lonely. Connor despised being alone, even when in the room with someone else. Besides, perhaps if he learnt a name, then they could have actual conversations.

It was a terrible idea. Getting to know a stranger, letting them in, learning their favourite coffee & their name. It would only make them leaving him hurt more. 

“Gavin.” The man replied with, also in a whisper, but with a voice as rough as his, Connor supposed it sounded more like a rasped out murmur.

He liked that about him. Everything was so rough. No nice pretenses. It was just instant roughness, hostilities & ‘I don’t care’s. Because at least with those, Connor knew where they stood. He wasn’t being fooled into thinking the man was being kind to, well, fuck him over later.

Nobody was ever kind to him, not unless they wanted something. 

“Gavin.” Connor repeated, testing out how the name sounded on his tongue, falling from his lips in a tone that was less of a whisper too, more of a murmur.

There was another silence. One that was a little too deafening.

“Gavin? I don’t have any money.” Connor whispered as he sat himself up so he could hesitantly make his way over to the stra- Gavin’s bed.

When Gavin sensed the movement, he rolled from his side onto his back so he could cast a glance to Connor. Before he had the chance to speak though, Connor had shifted swiftly enough so that he was now sitting on Gavin’s hips, knees either side of them.

Gavin’s hands seemed to hesitate for a moment, looking as though they were about to rest on Connor’s thighs before they gently rested on Connor’s hips instead as he stared up at him. Green-grey eyes caught the light in just the right way that Connor could see they looked irritated. Always irritated.

“What are y-”

“I don’t have any money.” Connor repeated, but this time, grinding his hips down against Gavin’s. He didn’t miss the feeling of Gavin’s grip tightening ever so slightly, brows creasing together to create an even deeper frown.

Connor didn’t have any money. Well, he did, but the money in his shoes was reserved for when shit got bad. Like, real, real bad. That was reserved for when he couldn’t take it anymore.

The man at the previous motel had offered to lower the price if Connor just put out, whether it was willingly or not. So, here he was. Offering himself. Willingly.

Or, as willingly as he could as his anxieties from his past started to creep up around his insides, wrapping themselves around his muscles & around his throat, constricting tighter & tighter & tighter until his body didn’t feel like his own. Again.

A shell. An empty vessel.

Devoid of a soul & a beating heart.

But he offered himself before Gavin had a chance to take it from him without him saying it was okay. Because at least then, it would be on  _ his _ terms.

It hurt. It hurt so much trying to keep his chest from heaving, trying to hold back his panic & look down at Gavin with a shy smile rather than a terrified look in his stupidly big doe eyes. Trying to look as though he wanted this.

“Don’t do this to yourself.” 

Gavin’s scratchy voice filled his ears, pulling him back from the depths in which his mind had got lost in. Connor blinked a few times, his hips freezing in place, hands freezing over where they were resting on Gavin’s abdomen, readying to undo his jeans.

He looked down at the man below him, an almost puzzled look washing across his features.

Every other man he had been with would have never said something like that. They would have just taken & taken & fucking taken. Like the man tried to do in Idaho… Like they did in Oregon.

“I don’t unders-”

“Get off me.”

So Connor did. Because when he said those words, the men had never listened. He wasn’t about to be the same. He got off of Gavin in seconds flat & instead sank down onto the edge of his own bed, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“Sor-”

“I don’t care.”

Connor nodded, gritting his teeth as he sat in silence for a few moments, trying to keep himself together. When he knew it wouldn’t work, he swiftly got up & disappeared into the pathetically small motel bathroom, shutting the door as quietly as he could behind him.

After flicking the light on, it only took one glance in the grimy, cracked mirror before Connor just… lost it.

The tears that filled his eyes spilled over his cheeks before he could even attempt to blink them back. He pushed the lid down & sat himself on the toilet, burying his face into his hands as sobs wracked his body.

His breath was shaking. He could barely inhale or exhale without practically choking on it, his hands were shaking too, along with the rest of him.

He clutched at his hair, felt as strands snapped beneath his fingers & it fucking hurt. It only served to bring his headache right back again, but he kept tugging at his hair. Kept trying to keep his choked sobs as silent as they possibly could be so the man in the other room wouldn’t hear him crumbling into little, tiny pieces.

Gavin had stopped him before he did something that he would so desperately regret. Something that would have eaten away at whatever was left of his rotten & wilted insides.

Gavin was a complete stranger, someone who could have taken from him without a care in the world & yet he had shown more compassion than someone Connor thought he loved. He had shown more care, more respect than someone Connor thought he could have perhaps married.

Gavin had refused to take the one thing that others had taken even when Connor hadn’t offered it to them.

Gavin. A stranger.

A complete stranger that had bandaged his hand & bought him snacks. Bought him painkillers, even bought him a comic book. Had covered him in a blanket & parked the car in the warmest spot on the lot. 

A complete stranger.

It took a long while, but eventually, Connor managed to draw in slow breaths, counting to four each time before exhaling. He repeated the process over & over again until eventually, fucking eventually, he could breathe again.

Until his body was his own again.

Once his breathing was in check, Connor slowly stood himself up & looked in the mirror. He peeled the little stitches from his face & threw them into the trash can that hadn’t been emptied since the last people who had stayed in this particular room.

He splashed his face with cold water & dried it on one of the thin, scratchy towels that were stacked on a small shelf beside the tiny shower. Perhaps the towels hadn’t been cleaned, just as the bin hadn’t been emptied, but he was too tired to care.

As silently as he could, Connor crept out of the bathroom & climbed back onto his bed.

Not into. Onto.

He was lying on the grimy quilt, on his side this time & staring at the door. Clothes & shoes still on, just as Gavin had. As though neither of them trusted the other to take even their shoes off. As though they were both ready to get up & run away at any given second.

Perhaps they were.

The minutes ticked by & not once did Connor drift off to sleep. Even when he screwed his eyes shut tight, despite that causing pain in the one side of his face, he didn’t even remotely drift off to sleep.

His mind was plagued with too many scenarios of what would have happened if Gavin had given in. What could have happened if he didn’t see that happy plant pot that housed the sad plant back in Idaho.

“I don’t care that you don’t have any money.”

Connor almost flinched. He thought that perhaps Gavin had finally managed to drift off to sleep. Apparently not.

_ ‘I don’t care that you don’t have any money.’ _

_ ‘I don’t care.’ _

_ ‘Don’t do this to yourself.’ _

_ ‘I don’t care.’ _

“Then why keep me around? If you’re not going to take what you want to make up for it?” Connor didn’t mean for the words to come out so harshly, but he couldn’t help it, even in their hushed tone.

He didn’t understand.

Everyone always wanted something from him & if Gavin didn’t want him for the money that he didn’t have or the sex that he wasn’t so sure he wanted to give, then what did he want him for?

“Because you’re injured.”

“You could have just left me in the road. Why didn’t you?”

“Because I’m not a bad person.”

_ You’ve already said that one before.  _

“I thought you said you didn’t care.”

“I don’t.”

Connor didn’t push the matter. Neither did Gavin.

Both men fell back into silence. Connor staring at the door, Gavin staring at the wall.

The minutes that passed turned into hours & it was only when the sun began to rise, when the darkness in the room began to dissipate, that Connor finally drifted off into a very light sleep. 

It only lasted a few hours before he flinched awake to the sound of murmured talking.

Connor was immediately on high alert, was all of three seconds away from jolting out of bed & dashing out of the door, but when he took a moment to listen, he could hear that it was Gavin’s voice.

Speaking ever so softly to someone on the phone.

So Connor kept his eyes shut tight, willed his breathing to stay as calm as he could make it so it appeared as though he was still sleeping as he listened.

“-I already told you I’m alone. In a motel-”

“No, I’m not sleeping in my car-”

“You sound like a worried parent. I’m fine.”

“Yes. I still have my meds.”

“Tina, I gotta go.”

He said that last line when Connor shifted a little to try to stop his arm from going numb.

Gavin was sitting too far away for Connor to hear what the other person on the line was saying, but if the soft sigh from Gavin’s end was anything to go by, they wanted to keep him talking.

“I can’t. Gotta go, sorry. Yeah, love you too. ‘Kay, bye.”

Just like that, the phone clicked & the call was over. Connor stayed lying there pretending to sleep. He wondered who Tina was & why she was worried about him. Why he couldn’t talk to her for longer, why Gavin told her he was alone-

Then again, if Connor still had his phone, if he could phone Nines to check in each time he crossed another state border, slowly making his way further & further away from home, he likely would have told Nines that he was alone too. 

He would have told Nines that he was okay, that things were going smoothly, that the car was holding up fine, that he was never running out of things to sketch.

He would have told Nines that he was okay, that he was going to be okay. That he was going to live a long & happy life somewhere & fall in love all over again. But this time, for real. That he & his love were going to go to art galleries together & go to every coffee shop there was for no reason at all.

He would have told Nines his new address so he could visit one day & see him happy. Like, really, really happy.

He would have told Nines that he was going to be okay. 

That he was going to make it through the year, that he was going to make it through the next few months, the next few weeks.

Even though he wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty curious to hear any thoughts on both characters & the mystery surrounding them !!  
> To the few that are interested in this story: Thank you! As this was going to stay hidden away on my laptop, collecting dust. So thank you for any words of encouragement to keep sharing my work. <3


	3. Soda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From motel diners or drive-in theatres, blueberry pancakes to warm sweaters, for a few fleeting moments, the world doesn't feel so ugly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Important:** There is talk/mentions of suicidal thoughts & fratricide from Gavin's POV near the start of the chapter while the duo are in the diner together, so please read with caution.  
> Other than that, happy reading!

“Uuuhm…”

Gavin had his chin resting on his hand, elbow propped on the mildly sticky table of the diner booth they were sitting in. He was staring out of the window, most definitely not glancing at Connor out of his peripheral vision every so often.

“Something green.” Connor finally settled on after what felt like an eternity of him trying to pick something for Gavin to guess what the fuck he was looking at.

It was a stupid, childish game, but Gavin had agreed to play along. Because at least if they were distracting themselves with childish games, then neither of them would bring up what happened last night.

Because at least that way, Gavin could continue to convince himself that he didn’t care, that Connor was just a stranger with a poor judge of character. That the only reason he told him to get the fuck off of him was because he was a stranger and not because Gavin didn’t want to see him lose any more pieces of himself.

Because Gavin could see, as a broken person, the missing parts of someone else too. Even when they tried to hide it with false smiles & vacant eyes.

They had been sitting in a diner since Gavin threw a pillow at Connor’s face while Connor most definitely pretended to be asleep.

Gavin pretended he didn’t know Connor was awake.

So there they were, waiting for food that Gavin had no clue if Connor liked or not, because the man refused to order anything, saying he didn’t want Gavin to pay for it for him.

So Gavin just ordered what he liked & found himself hoping that Connor liked it too.

How could you hope for something if you claim you don’t care?

Fuck, this stranger was going to be the death of him. Not that he minded.

“The trees?” Gavin didn’t move from where he was watching out of the window.

“Nope.”

“That car.”

“Nope.”

“That lady’s dress. Fuck, who wears a dress in the middle of December? I hope she freezes.”

“Nope, & you don’t mean that.”

“How do you know?” Gavin snapped back, a little too defensively.

“Because.” Connor shrugged & Gavin noticed the way he glanced between the lady in the green dress & Gavin’s face a few times before settling on watching Gavin. 

Always settling on watching Gavin.

Gavin pretended he didn’t notice. 

“You’re not a bad person.” Connor finally finished.

That’s what Gavin kept telling himself. He had even said it aloud a few times, as though he can convince himself it’s true if he says it enough.

So far, it hadn’t worked.

But if Connor saw him as the opposite of a bad person, then at least someone wasn’t seeing him how he saw himself.

Then again, that was a misjudge of character on Connor’s behalf, not his. It wasn’t his fault that this stranger was clearly an idiot. Maybe he was just lonely. Just like Gavin was.

Maybe this stranger was so desperate for just the tiniest amount of company from somebody who wasn’t going to try & take the last few pieces of him that he had left to offer, that he found solace in the confines of a car that reeked of cigarettes. 

That he found solace in a man that was anything but good.

Gavin didn’t bother to reply, nor did he bother to guess what green thing had caught Connor’s attention. He just grunted out a thank you as the waitress came over with their coffees & a large stack of blueberry pancakes.

“You sure you don’t want anything, doll?” The lady asked softly to Connor.

Gavin thought it was kind of funny. The few other people that were in the diner had given them both weird looks when they walked in. He was about to shove a guy just for looking at him a little too long, but then he remembered that Connor was beaten to shit with his hand bandaged, blood on his shirt, bruises littering his face, split in his cheekbone & lip with one of his eyes swollen half shut.

The way Connor carried himself too, looking as though he was the flight in the fight or flight instinct.

Then there was Gavin.

Looking like the fight in said instinct.

He had a split in his lip & a black eye that got lost in amongst the ever present bags that never shifted. His knuckles were bruised & if people were to jump to conclusions, as people commonly did, they could & would assume that Gavin had beaten the shit out of Connor.

Maybe he should have. 

If anyone else would have caused that amount of damage to his car, he would have beat the shit out of them. But something about seeing the way Connor held himself, the way he looked that night… It made something deep inside Gavin’s chest  _ hurt. _

Everyone looked at them weirdly, except the waitress. She seemed completely unaffected. Perhaps she saw drifters like them all of the time, perhaps in worse conditions, too. Perhaps she didn’t care. Gavin wouldn’t, if the roles were reversed.

“I’m sure, thank you.” Connor finally replied to the waitress & Gavin definitely did not notice the ever subtle pink hue that dusted Connor’s bruised cheeks as he smiled at the waitress, who returned it warmly before leaving them to it.

Gavin stayed quiet as he ate his pancakes, being sure to meticulously eat only half of the blueberries & exactly half of the pancakes in silence. After, he put down his fork & slid the plate across the table to the man sitting opposite.

After a look of hesitation, pausing where he had taken up trying to push the condiments to perfectly align one another, Connor nodded as a quick thank you before digging into the pancakes with Gavin’s fork. He wolfed them down like they were the last thing he was ever going to eat.

There was that feeling again. 

The one deep, deep down, lost somewhere in the empty cavity where Gavin’s heart should be. The same feeling got when he saw how fucked up Connor looked when he nearly hit him with his car. The same feeling he got when Connor grabbed his wrists when he thought he was going to hurt him. The same feeling he got when Connor straddled his hips-

Gavin pushed it down. 

Down as far as it could possibly go, reminding himself that he didn’t care. 

Because he doesn’t.

He was going to drive & keep driving. 

He was going to drive back to where he once lived in Detroit because that’s where he had tracked his father’s new company building to. He really should have guessed his father would return to working in that city as though he didn’t completely destroy his family.

Gavin was always an outsider, nobody even knew he & Elijah were siblings. Sure, the press would see them together from time to time in varying cities while Elijah was running business meetings, but they just assumed they were close friends.

What they didn’t know was that Gavin & Elijah were close. So fucking close. That Gavin would get beat over & over again, just so Elijah didn’t have to when they were kids.

That Gavin & Elijah had made a plan to get away when they were teenagers. That their father found out. That their father took his anger out on Gavin. That they did get away when they were all grown up. They really did.

Elijah’s ties to Cyberlife made it easy for them to keep moving. They traveled from state to state, ever moving, like sharks, so their father could never catch up to them. 

Until he did.

He was so angry. Gavin was angry, Elijah was afraid.

Too much happened at once. So much so that Gavin was still struggling to piece everything together, even now.

One moment, he & his father are fighting. The next moment? He’s being held back by someone he doesn’t know, forced to watch as his brother gets beat half to death.

Forced to watch as they… As they did what they did. 

When all was said & done, Gavin was left lying beside his brother, pressing two fingers to his neck every so often to see if he was still alive. Eventually, through the wheezy, raspy breaths, Elijah begged, fucking  _ begged _ for Gavin to make sure he didn’t wake up. 

He didn’t want to wake up. 

Gavin pleaded with him, he really did. He didn’t want to lose his brother, he didn’t want to lose the only thing in the world that gave him any fucking reason to keep on breathing.

But he had lost Elijah long before that fateful night. He knew that. He just never wanted to admit to himself. He saw the way Elijah closed off from everyone, the way he was so vacant in the eyes, the smiles so empty. 

Elijah’s spirit had been stolen away long before that night, that night had just given the killing blow.

So they made a deal. 

Lying side by side, bloodied & broken beyond repair, Gavin pressed his gun beneath Elijah’s chin as his brother begged him to do it, begged him to take the pain away. That it was unbearable, that he didn’t want this life, that he’d find him in the next one.

He wanted Gavin to save his life by taking it away before it could get away worse.

So he did.

The deal was that Gavin would do it too. Once Elijah was gone, he’d put a bullet in his own head as well. 

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t fucking do it.

So he ran. He ran & he ran & he got into fights. He drank & he drank & he shoved the biggest guy in the room. He drove & he drove, a little too quickly, a too little recklessly on ice slick roads. He smoked one too many cigarettes, he picked up strangers on the side of the road…

Gavin couldn’t do it himself, he was too afraid; so he went out of his way to be sure that someone or something, someday, would do it for him.

If he didn’t die by the time he got back to Detroit, then he was going to burn down that fucking company building in Capitol Park with himself inside. So when the firefighters eventually put out the flames & began to clear up the rubble to find out what had caused the fire, it’d be like a fucked up gift box - his charred, dead body waiting inside.

Merry _ fucking _ Christmas, Dad. 

Gavin was going to destroy everything his father loved.

Just like his father had destroyed everything he ever loved.

He tried to track the other men that were involved. The man that held him back while Elijah got attacked & the one who attacked Elijah, but he had nothing to go on other than a vague memory. 

It wasn’t enough.

Gavin wasn’t sure what he would do if he ever came face to face with them again. Or face to face with his father. A part of him likes to think that he could kill them. Kill them all for what they did to Elijah, what they did to him. But he wasn’t a killer, was he?

Was it murder? If they asked for it?

Was he a killer? If they deserved it? 

Gavin’s stomach flipped, bile rising up his throat. A hand flew out to his coffee mug so he could down it, as if it would help to wash down the sick feeling, drowning it in hot coffee that was always too sweet to be drunk by someone so bitter.

So no, he didn’t care. He couldn’t care.

He had already cared too much.

Look where that got him.

By the time Gavin finally dragged himself from his thoughts, he hadn’t realised that he had been staring outside at the same spot for the past fifteen minutes.

Connor had long since finished the pancakes & had instead taken up fiddling with something.

When Gavin tipped his head to actually glance towards the man, he could see that Connor was… drawing?

Quietly working away at shading whatever it was he had drawn; creating art on a napkin with a pencil from the condiment holder that had a pencil & paper where you could write out little reviews. As if anyone cared that much to actually, well, do that. 

Gavin wondered why he didn’t just choose to draw on the paper.

When Gavin’s full attention was drawn to Connor’s hands, the man must have noticed, because in record speed, he scrunched up the napkin before Gavin could actually see what it was that he had drawn & stuffed it into his jean’s pocket.

Connor murmured a little ‘fuck’ under his breath, acting as though he had made a mistake & that was the reason he had screwed it up. Not because Gavin was looking. 

Gavin pretended he didn’t notice.

“Is it blueberries?” Gavin asked, tilting his head a little against where it was still propped on his hand so he could watch the way those brown eyes flickered up to look at him, the way they narrowed for a split second before returning to their usual doe-eyed state.

The way they let Gavin in. 

See, that was the thing. Connor’s face was bruised & broken. His skin was purple & red. Soon to be greens & blues. His hands were constantly moving & his hair needed washing, but those eyes? Those eyes spoke volumes.

The more he stared, the more Gavin wondered why the hell people thought that brown eyes were just brown eyes. 

They were warm & comforting. So dark yet, as the sun seeped through the window & highlighted Connor’s face, catching them in just the right way, if Gavin preferred walks in the park over drinking in shitty bars, perhaps he would say they reminded him of the autumn leaves falling from the trees. Painting the world in beauty.

For now, though? He’d settle on having them remind him of how whiskey looked when it caught the light.

“Gavin… Blueberries are blue."

“You could be colourblind-”

Connor laughed at that. 

It was only for a moment, yet it was nothing like the laugh he did when he saw his reflection in the car mirror or when Gavin joked that he was a convict.

No, his eyes crinkled at the edges, his lips curled up to show off a perfect set of pearly-white teeth, there were little creases along the bridge of his nose, his head tipped back ever so sli-

Then, just as quickly as it was there, it was gone. Replaced with a wince & two fingers coming up to pat over the split in his lip to see if laughing had caused it to reopen.

After feeling that there was no damage caused by being happy for a slither of a second, Connor shook his head as he murmured, “I’m not colourblind.”

The whole moment left Gavin momentarily stunned, his mind blank. 

He found himself wishing that Connor didn’t have a split in his lip so he could laugh a little more without being reminded of the ever present pain & the state of his face. He found himself wishing that the world had a rewind button so he could listen to that sound all over again.

Then again, if the world had a rewind button, he wouldn’t be here, in this shitty fucking diner with its shitty fucking coffee & less than stellar blueberry pancakes with a boy with a beaten face, would he?

“Then I don’t know.” Gavin huffed out in defeat, standing himself up with a stretch. When Connor stood up too, making no attempt to talk, Gavin’s brows furrowed, “You’re not going to tell me what it is?”

“Nope.”

Gavin shot him a glare as Connor popped the ‘p’ in his reply. It reminded him of something Tina used to do all of the time when they would argue & she knew she was right. He pushed that thought down before it could grow into pity over how much he missed Tina. 

Gavin left some money, along with a tip for the waitress on the table before he headed out, Connor following at his side. 

Having Connor this close as they headed back towards his car had Gavin’s shoulders tensing right down the centre, as though he were ready to spin around & shove Connor away for being too close to his personal space.

He didn’t, but the thought did momentarily cross his mind.

An afterthought also momentarily crossed his mind. Connor was standing so close to feel some sense of comfort. To be close to someone when the rest of the world was so fucking scary. If that was the case, then Gavin was glad that he didn’t shove Connor away.

“I’m not going to guess.”

“Then I’m not going to tell you.”

They were back on the road again, only stopping every so often so Gavin could hop out the car & grab some things from shitty little local stores. Each time he disappeared for a few minutes, Connor would hop out the car too so he could pace around, stretch his legs & avoid rummaging through more of Gavin’s personal belongings.

They hadn’t spoken much since the diner. 

Well, not since they bickered for about ten minutes straight. 

Gavin refused to admit defeat, but also refused to keep on guessing what green thing Connor could see. Gavin couldn’t figure out how Connor could still see said green thing even though they had traveled hours from the diner & believed he was lying.

But Connor wasn’t lying.

Not completely. 

He had chosen Gavin’s eyes.

That was the thing, Gavin’s face was bruised & scarred. The skin around his eye was purple & red. Jagged scars sat across his nose & along the side of his forehead, cutting into his brow-bone slightly. But those eyes? Those eyes spoke volumes.

The more he watched, the more he wondered why those eyes were always glaring. What had happened to shape something that was once warm into something so cold.

They were cold & distant. Dull, almost. 

But there would be these fleeting moments where the sun hit in just the right way & if Connor preferred poetry over painting, perhaps he would say the man’s eyes reminded him of the greenery that broke through the snow after a harsh, unforgiving winter. Green tinged with grey; the grey like heavy storm clouds, ready to try & extinguish any greenery that tried to break through & yet somehow, the green always won.

For now, though? Connor would settle on having the man’s eyes remind him of his favourite shades to paint in that were left behind with everything else he loved.

But Gavin didn’t guess, so Connor didn’t tell.

Instead they sat in the quiet, driving through Wyoming, stopping for coffee breaks or whenever Gavin disappeared to stock up on snack supplies.

Sometimes, when Gavin’s fingers stopped tapping against the wheel in time with the ever so quiet music that was drifting through the car’s speakers, Connor almost forgot that he was in the car with a stranger. In a car with a stranger in clothes that he had been wearing for days straight. In clothes that he had bled all over.

If he fluttered his eyes shut & rested his head back, for a moment he could pretend that he was road-tripping with his brother. 

With the window down just barely an inch, the breeze was soothing on his face, it filtered through his hair & caused little unruly strands to fall over his forehead.

In his mind, he looked over to the driver’s side to see his brother glance back at him with a small smile & silver eyes warmer than most thought they were as they headed towards somewhere new.

They’d drive to art shows that were seven hours away, simply because Nines knew Connor loved to go. Nines promised him that one day, Connor would have his art hanging in a gallery, being shown off at an exhibition & he would be there every step of the way.

He liked to think that he could have had that. That he could have made a living off of his work. That things could have worked out. That he could have been happy.

But then he painted the walls of an apartment he thought he would call home with the blood of a man he thought he loved. With the blood of two other men who he thought were his friends.

Now he had nothing. Nothing but doubts, scars, bitter memories that overtook the good ones & a stranger that didn’t like him all that much.

Nothing but dead & wilted insides, desperate for oxygen to help them live. Nothing but a vessel that once housed a spirit that was long gone. Nothing but lungs that didn’t want to breathe & a heart that didn’t want to beat.

Nothing. He was alone. Not even his own shadow wanted to keep him company anymore.

“Connor?”

Connor fluttered his eyes back open, tipping his head against where it was resting back against the headrest so he could cast a glance over to Gavin.

The man had one hand on the wheel, the other propping his head up as he often did. Connor wondered why he never drove with both hands on the wheel. Whether it was just comfortable that way or whether he just didn’t care enough about his safety to have both hands at the ready for if they were to get into an accident.

He found that he didn’t care.

He found he was enjoying the sound of his name coming from Gavin’s lips far more.

“Hm?”

“Where are we going?”

Connor’s brows pitched together into a soft frown & he took a second to study the man at the wheel who had cast a glance his way for a little too long before returning his eyes to the road ahead.

_ ‘We’ _

_ We. _

“You’re the one driving, Gavin.” So far, Gavin had yet to kick him out, had yet to say he was going to drive in a different direction than the one Connor was going. If Gavin was going all over the states, then eventually they would end up in Michigan.

“Sure I am, but you never told me where you were heading, if you had a plan-”

“You haven’t told me yours either.”

“Yes I did. To find the best coffee shop. Did you get your head knocked that bad that you’ve forgotten already?”

Right. Coffee shops. Lattes with too much sugar in them. Lies.

“Michigan.”

Gavin fell quiet at that, looking as though he was ruminating over one too many things that were floating around in that pretty head of his.

Connor sort of wondered what was going on in there. What the man thought about while he was driving, while he was quiet for hours on end; if he pretended Connor was someone else just like for a moment, like Connor pretended he wasn't in the car with a stranger.

“Michigan, huh? What’s in Michigan?” Gavin asked in a tone that felt as though he knew exactly what was in Michigan, but wanted to keep the conversation going. Not even out of the need to speak, like most people had. For a split second, Connor fooled himself into believing that perhaps Gavin wanted to actually have a conversation with him.

It was a very short lived conversation.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t live there?”

“No. Do you?”

“Obviously not.”

There was the faintest tug of a smile at one of the corners of Connor’s mouth at that. Gavin mimicked the words he had spoken when asked about living in Wyoming. Something about hearing the man use words that Connor had said, no matter how minimal, had something deep within his chest spark.

“Does that mean we’re going to South Dakota next?”

“Guess so.” Gavin shrugged, fingers going back to tapping along the steering wheel.

Then, they fell back into silence for a little while. Another one of those heavy silences where Connor spent the whole time wanting to say something, but struggled to get the stubborn words out of his throat.

He got a small feeling that Gavin could sense it too, because the man seemed to stiffen, to shift in his seat & run a hand through his hair as though the tension in the car started pressing in on him a little too much.

Connor hated it. He hated seeing the man look stressed. So finally, he managed to force the words out, “Could we maybe do something in South Dakota?”

“Like what?”

Well, there was Mount Rushmore, national parks, hot springs, museums & butterfly farms.

But they all felt like things that Gavin wouldn’t want to go to. Then again, he said that like he knew anything more than the stranger’s name, coffee order & preferred brand of cigarettes.

“Well.. I don’t know. I saw they have these drive-in movie theatre things. Like they had in the seventies or eighties. We could go to one of those. Sneak in.”

Sneak in. So Gavin didn’t have to spend money on Connor wanting to drag out how long it took for them to get to Michigan.

Because he didn’t fucking want to go to Michigan. He didn’t want to start again.

As sad as it was to admit, Connor didn’t want this road trip, if you could even call it that, to end. Despite desperately needing new clothes, to take a warm shower, to just… Feel like he was human again. He still didn’t want it to end.

Because once he was in Michigan, if they made it that far, then he was going to have to leave the comfort of the car that smelled a little too heavily of cigarettes. He was going to have to leave the comfort of having someone beside him, even if they hardly knew each other.

He was going to have to leave.

He was going to have to leave Gavin.

A stranger he had only spent one night with. A stranger who continuously told him that he didn’t care.

Yet Connor was already growing attached. 

Was he really that lonely? That the thought of losing a stranger that didn’t even like him had a strange discomfort sitting heavily on his chest?

He didn’t want to be alone. Not again.

“Okay.”

“Gavin… I can’t-”

“Would you just put them on already?!”

“But-”

“But nothing, dipshit, put the fucking clothes on!”

Usually, a tone like that would have Connor flinching back ever so slightly, especially considering they were now alone in a motel room together, finally in South Dakota. But instead, a little smile tugged at his lips as he relented & took the small stack of clothes Gavin was holding out to him.

Besides, the man was demanding he put clothes on, not take them off & that was awfully comforting.

“Fine.”

A satisfied look crossed Gavin’s face for barely a second before it returned to its default grumpy look & Connor disappeared into the tiny bathroom, locking the door behind him.

After turning on the shower, leaving it to warm up thanks to having to wait for the shitty motel boiler to kick in, Connor unwrapped the fresh bandages from around his hand that Gavin had helped him change a few hours ago, putting them into the bin before working on getting undressed.

He carefully slid off his shoes, crouching down to take a moment to check the last of the money he had in them. Then, he checked it again. Then, one more time. Yep, eighty-four dollars uncomfortably tucked into each shoe just beneath the sole.

$168. That was it. That was all he had & how fucking awful did it make him to lie? To tell Gavin that he had no money at all?

Even more so when Gavin was buying him coffee & sharing his breakfast with him.

Pants & boxers came off next, shirt always last. Even though nobody was in the room to see, it was still a force of habit.

Shaky hands unbuttoned his shirt & Connor diverted his gaze from the mirror to avoid looking at the scars that littered his torso. The worst of them were on his back, starting midway down his ribs, spanning across the expanse of his skin in thick, pink lines that tapered off along the back of his hips.

A constant reminder for if he ever finds himself intimate with someone else that his ex always had him first. Destroyed him first. Picked him apart first. 

Leaving everyone else with nothing but broken pieces. 

Nobody wanted damaged goods.

Connor shuddered, quickly climbing into the shower as though the motel’s shitty, weak smelling pine & jasmine soap could scrub away at the feeling of unwanted hands on him.

It didn’t work, but he tried. He spent a good ten minutes scrubbing at his skin until it was red raw & burned as the water pelted against it. He spent a good ten minutes trying to get his body to feel like his own again. He washed his hair twice over to be sure it was clean, that it was rid of any dried blood left over from when he was getting his face pummeled.

Connor was just going to be left with more scars to add to the collection.

He liked to think that one day, perhaps he could come to terms with his body. With the scars on his back, the little ones that littered his torso, the few that never quite faded on his thighs. 

Then again, he wasn’t sure that he was going to live that long.

He wasn’t satisfied, but didn’t want to keep Gavin waiting. 

Connor carefully stepped out of the shower, drying himself off with the scratchy towels provided before beginning to tug on the clothes that Gavin had given to him.

Gavin had promised that he didn’t mind, that they were just spare clothes he had bought with him on his travels in case he ended up needing them. Sure, Connor was a little bit taller, but they were both about the same weight, Gavin having a little more muscle in the chest & arms than Connor did, but that didn’t matter.

But by the time Connor got to tugging on the dark grey sweater, he noticed a little tag still attached, one that Gavin must have forgotten to take off.

Gavin had lied? He had brought him new clothes?

New clothes, a comic book, food & coffee.

_ Don’t think too much about it, Con, it’s just basic human decency. _

Basic human decency that nobody else had shown him in a very fucking long time. Basic human decency coming from someone who claimed to not care.

With a soft sniffle, Connor tugged off the tag & threw it into the trash, pulling the soft sweater over his head. The inside was fleece lined, meaning hopefully now he wouldn’t be shivering in Gavin’s car constantly. The softness of it against his skin felt like a warm hug that Connor so desperately craved.

_ It’s just a fucking sweater, Connor. _

After taking a moment to be sure no tears were going to cloud his vision, Connor used the towel to dry off some of his hair before hooking it over the rack, folding up his old clothes & headed out of the bathroom.

Gavin was sitting on one of the beds against the headboard, a hand resting behind his head as he mindlessly flicked through the bare minimum of channels that the motel had to offer, now also in fresh clothes.

Gavin sat in dark blue jeans, a black sweater with a small cat face embroidered over the left breast that was poking out just where Gavin’s faded maroon leather jacket wasn’t covering. He was always wearing so many layers, Connor wondered if he was trying to hide what lay beneath just as much as he did. Or if he were just cold.

The man tipped his head ever so slightly to glance Connor’s way, eyeing him to solely look at the clothes with a nod of approval.

No comments were made, there were no glances that lingered a little too long. Just a simple nod to show he was happy to see Connor wearing something that he hadn’t bled all over.

“Right, I think we’re finally ready to head out to go see a fuckin’ movie. You ready, Drifter?”

Drifter.

“I suppose I’ll take that over grifter,  _ Grifter _ .” Connor quipped back with a tiny smirk.

He wasn’t sure at what point in their companionship he had decided that he could talk back to Gavin without the fear of being shouted at, but he supposed he could pinpoint it somewhere along the state lines of Wyoming & South Dakota.

“Hey! I’m not a grifter! Shit, do I look like a grifter?” Gavin switched off the TV, hopping up to look at himself in the tiny mirror, running a hand along on his stubble that was getting a little out of control. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Maybe I am.”

With a smirk quickly followed up by an eye roll, Gavin headed out of the door after grabbing his wallet. Connor left his old clothes at the foot of the bed that he’d be occupying once they got back & when he was out of the room too, Gavin locked up & they headed towards the car.

He watched as a shiver jolted through Gavin’s spine & in response, the man immediately sparked up a cigarette, as though the smoke could warm him up from the inside out.

Smoking really should not be charming, it really, really shouldn’t be, but there was just something about the way that Gavin did it that left Connor wanting to see it over & over again.

How could someone be so beautiful while actively killing themselves?

An hour later saw them driving past a view of the sunset, the sky pink, the clouds orange, the sun splashing them in all the right shades.

Once more, the world looked as though an artist had painted the sky with only the most delicate, quintessential colours to mask the ugliness beneath. Once more, Connor found himself falling for it.

Gavin shut off all the lights on his car & they managed to drive around the back of the parking grounds, weaving through the cars that were already parked up so they could get a perfect spot of the giant movie screen, without having to pay an entry fee.

There were less cars parked up than Connor had expected, but then he remembered that most people had a home that they would be comfortably snuggled up in on a freezing December evening. They had a crackling fireplace or a warm bed that didn’t have questionable stains on the poorly cleaned sheets. They had families & kitchens to cook breakfast in. They had-

They had everything that Connor had left behind. Including happiness.

A quiet sigh escaped his lips at the thought & he rested his head against his hand, elbow propped against the door once more as he looked out at the big screen as the original Blade Runner began to play.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw Gavin do the tiniest of fist pumps with a small grin to match at the choice of movie that was playing.

Connor didn’t mention it, just as he didn’t mention the fact he saw the tags on the clothing he was currently wearing. Instead, he bunkered down into his new, soft sweater as they watched the movie together in a comfortable silence for about half an hour before Gavin began to fidget.

The stranger, wait, do they know each other just about enough for Connor to start calling him his companion on more than one occasion now?

His companion reached into the backseats, rummaging through the bag there for a good five minutes before finally sitting back in his seat, clearing his throat to gain Connor’s attention, holding a can of soda & some Twizzlers out to him.

Connor took them, pushing down the feeling of warmth that flitted through his stomach as his hand grazed Gavin’s. 

He wanted to hold his hand again. Not because he was anxious & was being dragged through the wave of nervousness that had stunned him in place. But he wanted to hold his hand because he could. He wanted to feel the warmth of those calloused hands in his as he intertwined their fingers, refusing to acknowledge the fact it would be a terrible, terrible idea.

But Gavin pulled away, opened his own can of soda & held it up.

After a split second of being puzzled, Connor quickly caught onto the hint & opened his own can, clinking it against Gavin’s as a toast. “To being alone.” He settled on, without thinking twice before opening his mouth for the first time in a long time.

It just felt… Right.

Gavin glanced at him at that. Deep, forest green & grey eyes finally looking his way & it damn near took Connor’s breath away. Perhaps he should say his questionable thoughts out loud more often.

“I’ll drink to that.” Gavin finally agreed, “To being alone.” He repeated, then the pair both drank at the same time, a small smile sitting on Connor’s lips.

_ At least we’re alone together. _

As the movie went on, they finished their drinks along with their snacks & sat in a comfortable silence until Gavin began to fidget… Again.

Usually it was Connor who had to keep moving, always had to do something with his hands to keep himself occupied, as though if he stopped for just a moment then the whole world would fall apart around him. 

Connor had been fiddling with a loose thread on his sweater as he watched the movie & that was enough to keep his world from imploding for a little while.

Gavin, however? This time, he decided to face Connor. He had shifted in his seat so he was curled up with the side of his head resting against the headrest, legs pulled up to his chest as he looked right at Connor.

For a few moments, Connor sat there trying to pretend that he wasn’t aware of Gavin’s eyes on him. But that didn’t fucking last for very long at all & instead, he too, shifted in his seat so he was mirroring Gavin’s position, the colours from the movie screen washing them both in a subtle shade of pink.

“You’re staring at me.” Connor whispered, as though it were a secret, as though it were a crime to point such a thing out. But, he was a criminal now.

“You stare at me all of the time. Can’t a guy return the favour?” Gavin asked back, his voice just as hushed, but once again, too rough to actually whisper.

_ No. _

“I suppose.” 

There was a hint of a smile on Gavin’s face at that, not enough to be able to warrant calling it a smile, per se, but it was still there & Connor would take what he could get.

His eyes studied Gavin’s, studied as the man studied right back. He could see the way Gavin was taking in all of his features, as if mapping them out so he could draw them out later. As if somehow, if he memorised them, he could explain what Connor looked like to a sketch artist if he ever just… Disappeared.

Perhaps one day he would just disappear. Perhaps Gavin would be the only one to remember the alignment of his freckles. Perhaps he was okay with that.

He’d become another lost face on the side of a milk carton that would be forgotten about by the time the milk reached its expiry date.

Missing people always had an expiry date. The milk turns sour & as it’s poured down the sink, the memory of that sad face on the side of the carton is washed away too.

But was he missing? If he ran away?

“What are you thinking about?” Connor finally broke their silence, eyes only drifting from where he was studying Gavin’s nose scar for a moment so he could flicker them to the movie, as though he had any fucking clue what was happening. 

The whole time he had been watching Gavin, it was as though the sound from the movie faded out into a soft background sound. The area around them crumbled away & all he could focus on was the flickering pink & blue hues that splashed across Gavin’s face with each change of scene.

Stunning. In an imperfect kind of way.

What a terrible, terrible mistake he was making.

“Nothing.” 

Right.

Gavin didn’t return the question like most people would. Likely because Gavin didn’t care.

Again, perhaps Connor was okay with that. Because with Gavin not asking him, he wouldn’t have to lie. He wouldn’t have to flash a vacant smile & tell him that he was just thinking about how they should get back to watching the movie. He wouldn’t have to shrug & pretend that he wasn’t thinking about _ him. _

About a stranger. About how Connor always gave little pieces of himself away & the pieces that he had left? He was offering them up for Gavin’s taking.

So Connor simply nodded in response to show his acknowledgement of Gavin’s answer before settling back into his original position so he could catch the end of the movie. He didn’t want to, he wanted to keep watching Gavin instead, but he knew that if he kept his eyes on him, then it would only be a matter of time before Gavin looked away.

But if he looked away first? Then Gavin could continue to look at him without the price of holding eye contact for too long. He was selfish, but he wanted Gavin to look at him. He wanted the man to look at him without narrowed eyes, to look at him for longer than just a glance.

Connor wanted someone to notice him & when Gavin had, he decided he didn’t want it anymore on the pretenses that he expected the man to take from him. But Gavin had taken his time to patch Connor up, to be the someone that Connor didn’t realise he so desperately needed in that moment when he realised that he had lost everything.

Everything but $168 split between his shoes & more terrible memories to add to the ever growing collection.

So Connor watched the rest of the movie as Gavin watched him & for just a little, he could pretend that everything was okay.

He could pretend that Gavin cared. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read this, then I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I know the world is a scary place right now, so I do hope that everyone is safe & okay.<3  
> As always, kudos & comments are sososo appreciated, so thankies if you leave them!<33


	4. Tribulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin has lost something, he thinks Connor has stolen it. Angst ensues.

Gavin wasn’t entirely sure on just how long he had been staring up at the flickering, buzzing beer sign for, but he had ultimately decided that it was mocking him.

It blinked on & off a fair few times as he stared at it through his hazy vision.

Blink, blink, flicker, blink. Blink, blink flicker. Flicker, blink, flicker, blink. Flicker, blink, flicker. Flicker, flicker, fli-  _ Okay, seriously, did that neon sign just tell me to ‘fuck off’ in morse code? _

Holy shit. The world really did fucking hate him.

Gavin scoffed to himself before downing the rest of his whiskey, slamming the glass down on the bar with a little too much force. Taking an extra second to be sure that he didn’t put a crack in the glass, he then slid it across the bar towards the bartender & asked for yet another refill.

He probably shouldn’t be drinking. No, scratch that, he really shouldn’t be drinking.

Gavin turned into an asshole when drunk. A bigger asshole than usual. He had no fucking filter & it most definitely, 100% of the time, bit him in the ass by the end of the night.

But, he had no one to blame but himself, it was his fault. 

Plus, Gavin’s technique regarding his drinking habits was rather simple. Drink too much & then pick a fight with the biggest guy. It’s just how he worked.

This time maybe, just maybe, one of these men would be the lucky prick that finally put an end to his fucking life. Gavin Reed would become cold, dead, bruised & black, just lying on a slab in a morgue as nobody came to claim his body. Lips blue & eyes rolled back.

Nobody would come to say ‘hey, that’s my son’ or ‘that’s my friend’. There’d be no funeral, no burial. Just another body in the incinerator, his wallet in an evidence bag where it’d sit & collect dust over the years, sitting in an archive room in a police station in a state that wasn’t his home.

Gavin Reed. Cold case. Nobody. 

Tina would notice when the calls would stop, she’d get that gut feeling & she’d know. Perhaps she would cry for a day, cuddle their cat & drench his fur with tears. But then she would get back to work & life would go on for her. Because that’s how it worked. Life always went on.

The world didn’t stop simply because one person died.

So he drank.

He drank & he drank & he drank some more.

Until the flickering beer sign that taunted him became nothing more than a blur of fuzzy bokeh lights & until the man that was eyeing him dangerously from across the bar became a little more desirable. 

Desirable.

Yeah.

He drank until the world began to tilt violently, until he thought he could forget Connor’s fucking name. But he only managed to forget his own.

So, as Gavin stumbled towards the man that was twice his size with alcohol on his breath & a suggestive smirk on his lips, he recounted just how he ended up here. 

Drinking alone in a shitty bar in the middle of South Dakota, ready to first get a quick fuck, then get the shit beat out of him & if he were lucky, it’d be by the same man.

**_17 hours earlier._ **

“Gavin?” Connor whispered ever so softly as they laid there after getting back to the motel after the movie. Connor was facing the door & Gavin facing the wall, just like before.

For a moment, Gavin contemplated staying silent, pretending that he was asleep so he wouldn’t have to engage in conversation at three in the morning with a stranger that he barely knew. With a stranger that he was beginning to like.

He really was going to do just that. 

But before he had the chance to stop himself, he was already whispering, “Yeah, Con?”

_ Con. _

He liked the way such a short, little nickname rolled so perfectly off of his tongue, as though it was made for him & him alone to say. Like Connor had stumbled into the road for him & him alone to find.

Gavin wasn’t one for fate, destiny or kismet, but there was a tiny little part of him, somewhere in the empty pit where his heart should be, that gave him a feeling that Connor was somehow supposed to show up in his life.

He wasn’t sure if he hated it or not. If he should run away or not. But each time he thought about leaving, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Each time he convinced himself that he did not care for this stranger, the stranger would say something that had him momentarily forgetting about the vacancy in his chest.

“Are you awake?” Connor asked as though Gavin hadn’t just replied. Wait, did he even reply out loud? Or did he imagine that he had replied, when in fact he had stayed quiet?

If that was the case, then all he had to do was not open his mouth. To not bother to answer. To not care-

“No.” 

“Oh… Okay then.”

The tiniest of smiles tugged at Gavin’s lips & he sort of wondered if Connor’s face was doing the same. Just like that, the vacancy was momentarily forgotten. Distracted by the weirdness of his new companion.

Curiously, Gavin slowly rolled himself onto his other side despite the bruising along his ribs causing him to wince in the process. Shit, yeah, he sort of forgot about that. What he was running from just before almost running over Connor in his car.

Upon hearing his movement, Connor did the same thing so they were now both facing one another with just the space of the two separate beds between them. The light from the street lamps & motel sign outside managing to illuminate their faces in an array of subtle blues.

Gavin was right. There was a tiny smile on Connor’s face, but it faded the longer he looked at Gavin. In that regard, it seemed like Connor was just like everyone else.

“Are you going to try to get into my pants again?” Gavin murmured, half sarcastically, half genuinely curious. It was the first time either of them brought _ that  _ up.

Under the lighting, Gavin couldn’t quite tell if Connor’s cheeks flushed upon the comment or not, but he sort of hoped they had. The thought of it was rather adorable.

Oh dear.

Connor shook his head, diverted his gaze to look at the loose threads that were coming off of his mattress. “No. I wanted to thank you.” Connor whispered, “For tonight.”

Oh.

He didn’t have to do that.

Gavin didn’t want to be thanked. Being thanked meant he was doing something nice.

He wasn’t being nice. He just wasn’t being completely shitty, either.

Instead of saying something that he may end up regretting, he simply shrugged his shoulders despite the pain that caused his ribs, it being an injury he should probably get looked at. He studied the way Connor opened his mouth a few times to say something, but the words never quite made it out.

“Can’t sleep?” Gavin asked softly after a few minutes of silence & that’s when Connor’s pretty brown eyes finally looked back up to his face & he shook his head. 

“No. Too cold.”

“Even in your sweater?”

“Even in my sweater.” Connor echoed without missing a beat.

Gavin pushed himself up into a sitting position, flipping his legs over the edge of his bed with a tired yawn.

That was the thing with insomnia. 

It didn’t matter if he was tired. He could be fucking exhausted, yet sleep would still be hard to come by. That’s just how it worked.

Some nights were better than others, sometimes he had Tina, other times he managed to just barely get a few hours without her voice. Most nights though? He spent them lying there in bed, wondering just how long he could go without sleeping until his body began to shut down.

Sometimes, it felt like it was already in the process of doing that.

Sometimes, he wished it was.

Without another word, Gavin quickly disappeared out of the motel room & to his car, taking a few dragged out minutes to draw in a few deep breaths of the freezing air. It was so cold that he was convinced the air would create little snowflakes in his lungs. 

If he cried out here, would his tears turn into tiny icicles? 

He didn’t want to find out, so Gavin grabbed his blanket that he had let Connor borrow, locked his car up again & made his way back into the motel room.

Weirdly, he found himself trying to be as quiet as he could, as though he expected any movement to startle Connor. As though he cared.

He shut the door behind him by holding down the handle so it wouldn’t make that clicking sound & as he tip-toed around the bed, he drew Connor’s duvet back with slow, careful motions so as to not startle him.

Still, those big, sparkling doe eyes snapped open & looked right at him, wide with a nervousness that seemed to be ever present around the man.

“Here.” Gavin murmured in a hushed tone & he gently draped the big blanket over him, tucking it in at either side of Connor’s body. He then put the motel quilt back over his companion, hoping that it would suffice. “It’ll help keep the warm in.”

Connor looked thoughtful for a moment, smiling tiredly up at him as he felt Gavin push the quilt closer to his body so he was as tucked in as possible, before he settled on, “Thanks, Gav.”

_ Gav. _

He liked that.

Gav & Con. Just three simple letters for each of them, they didn’t need much else.

If Gavin wasn’t mistaken, Connor seemed almost hesitant to thank him. As though he expected Gavin to throw it right back in his face.

He thought about it. But instead, he settled on a simple shrug, just like last time, which was his silent version of an ‘I don’t care’. He got back into the other bed, this time taking up lying on his bad side just so he could watch Connor slowly drift off to sleep once he was warm enough.

“Try to get some rest, Con.” Gavin whispered in his direction & in return, he got a mumbled  _ something  _ that very barely resembled a ‘sleep well.’

He wouldn’t sleep well. But that was okay, at least he had a pretty sight to look at while he waited for the morning to swing around.

**_12 hours earlier._ **

“All I’m saying is-”

“I swear I’m not lying!” 

“Then where the fuck is it, Connor?!”

“I don’t know!”

Neither had actually raised their voices at one another since, well, since Gavin had shouted at Connor on that first night when he nearly hit him with his car.

By Connor’s standards, he believed things had been going relatively tame.

They had watched that movie together at the drive-in theatre & Connor enjoyed how calm Gavin seemed to be. For the briefest of moments, Connor almost fooled himself into thinking that Gavin didn’t completely hate him.

He did the same thing with his ex, with his old friends, with Hank-

The way Gavin watched him as Connor watched the movie, the way they drove back to the motel together in a comfortable silence that was only cut by the sound of Gavin’s soft inhales of nicotine.

The way Gavin had given him the blanket again, the way they fell asleep in their separate beds; but rather than Connor facing the door & Gavin facing the wall this time, they were facing each other.

The way things were going okay. Not that it ever lasted when Connor was concerned.

After murmuring out his goodnight, Connor had listened to the softness of Gavin’s breathing, patiently waiting for it to get deeper to indicate he was asleep. But as the minutes turned into an hour, Connor couldn’t fight off sleep any longer & ended up drifting off himself.

Until, yet again, a pillow was thrown at his busted face in the morning, jolting him awake.

A soft groan of pain escaped Connor’s lips as he sat himself up, throwing the pillow back onto Gavin’s empty, unmade bed. He blinked a few times to get his eyes to focus before looking up to see a very angry Gavin rummaging through the pockets of Connor’s old pair of jeans

It was a very, very drastic change from his demeanor last night.

Connor’s hair was completely disheveled, curls falling over his forehead as he slowly stood himself up with furrowed brows. He watched the man turn the pockets of Connor’s jeans inside out, frantically looking for… something?

“What are you-”

“Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“You know what!”

No, he didn’t know what. He had no fucking idea what Gavin was talking about.

“I don’t underst-”

“You stole it!”

The back & forth went on & on for far too long for Connor’s liking until Gavin finally actually mentioned what it was he was looking for. 

The man had a necklace. 

He believed Connor stole it.

Connor didn’t. He didn’t even know Gavin wore a stupid necklace beneath his stupid hoodie. But after more shouting, Connor had finally managed to get the man to explain what it looked like so he could help him find it.

Apparently, it was simply a little disc on a long chain that sat perfectly over the center of his chest. 

Apparently, it was irreplaceable. One of a kind. 

Apparently, it was worth something from someone important. Something that Connor would never understand because he was a nobody. Gavin’s words. Not his.

Despite the fact those words hurt, he knew they were true. But then again, when did the truth ever not feel like a stab right to the chest? The world laughing as it twisted the blade for maximum damage.

He may have been a nobody, but he wasn’t a thief. Not really, anyway. 

He had stolen Hank’s gun away on the bad nights, had stolen the pills from Nines’ medicine cabinet, had stolen his ex’s house keys & locked up the apartment to buy himself some time before anyone could find the mess that he had left in there.

But that didn’t make him a thief.

People had stolen too much from him already, so he wasn’t about to do the same to somebody else.

Gavin reached his hand into the front pocket of Connor’s old jeans, pulling out the napkin he had screwed up from when he was sketching in the diner.

“Gav-”

He wanted to rip the napkin from the man’s hands. He wanted to tear it into tiny pieces, so Gavin couldn’t see what was drawn on it. But he was stuck in place. Always stuck in place. Never saying no.

Gavin smirked ever so slightly, one of those douchey, heartless smirks that men do right before spitting out something cruel. He unraveled the napkin to look at what was sketched on it.

For a moment, the look of anger completely disappeared, replaced with something Connor couldn’t quite pinpoint. But then it returned again as he threw Connor’s jeans onto his bed, shoving the napkin in his face, as though he didn’t already know what was drawn across it.

It was Gavin.

Sketched in shitty diner HB pencil, but flawlessly captured to the point where even the shading beneath his eyes was perfectly matched in depth. 

It was Gavin looking out of the window with his chin resting on his hand, elbow propped on the diner table as he looked for something green.

While Connor was looking at his something green.

It was Gavin. Immortalised forever in shitty diner HB pencil.

It was Gavin. Or… it _ was.  _ Not so immortalised anymore.

The man scoffed & shook his head, angrily screwing up the napkin into a tight ball before he flicked it across the room where it fell behind one of the headboards of the beds. It was gone forever to collect dust along with whatever the fuck else was hidden down there that nobody wanted to actually go looking for.

“The fuck you doing shit like that for, huh? Fucking weirdo.” Those pretty green & grey eyes were on him now as Gavin stepped up closer & it took everything in Connor to not take a step back. He wouldn’t. He would stand his ground. He wouldn’t back away.

It wasn’t the first time he had been called weird, it likely definitely wouldn’t be the last, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when he heard those words coming from _ that  _ mouth.

Before Connor had the chance to defend himself, Gavin beat him to it. “You some fucking stalker? Some freak who wants to get close to me & steal the only shit that means a goddamn thing to me?! I had that necklace last night & now it’s gone!”

_ Yes, I want to get close to you. _

_ No, I didn’t take your belongings, but if blaming me makes you feel better, then please, carry on. _

“I swear I-”

“Y’know what? Fuck this & fuck you! I should have never picked up your beaten ass! Get the fuck out, Connor!.” Gavin jabbed a finger in the direction of the door & when Connor faltered for a moment, trying to push down the overwhelming sense of hurt that washed over him, Gavin shouted, “I said leave!”

So he did.

Connor readjusted the sweater that he had just slept in & nodded once before making his way out of the motel room, leaving everything else behind.

It took everything to not look back.

**_8 hours earlier._ **

Connor was going to come back. 

He had to come back.

**_4 hours earlier._ **

Connor didn’t come back.

In the hours that Connor was gone, Gavin turned the whole motel room upside down over & over in search for his stupid fucking necklace. But all he found was a used condom beneath the bed he slept in that he didn’t even have the energy to be grossed out by & Connor’s screwed up drawing he had chucked away.

Even by his standards, it was cruel to do that.

Silently thanking whoever was pulling his strings & making his life hell, that they gave him enough of a break that the little drawing didn’t land anywhere near the used condom, Gavin swiped the napkin.

He sat on the unmade bed that he had torn apart, carefully trying to unravel the napkin without tearing the edges. 

He rested it on his thigh so he could gently use the side of his hand to smooth out the creases that he had created in the midst of his destructive outburst.

It only served to put a big fucking smudge through the sketch & as he stared down at it, at his intricately drawn graphite features that were all merging together, tears welled in his eyes.

Over a fucking drawing.

He stared down at it & watched pathetically as his tears dripped onto the napkin, furthering the damage. His own anxieties had got the better of him & yet again it had led to him pushing & pushing & fucking pushing until he was left alone.

Again.

Gavin was so afraid of people growing close to him, of people knowing anything about him, just in case they found out what he had done.

What if Connor found out what he had done?

He didn’t want to be sent to prison. He wasn’t a bad person.

Was he?

**_2 hours earlier._ **

The motel room had been pieced back together the best he could, but as he took a step back to survey it, anyone with half a brain cell could see that the room had been destroyed & had very poorly been put back together.

Like painting over cracks.

Still, it would have to do.

Gavin grabbed his wallet, keys & bag & headed to the parking lot.

Snow had been falling in thick flakes in the hours that Gavin had spent in the motel room. He had been so distracted by his quest to find his necklace that he didn’t even realise the white blanket that had been cast over the town.

With a grumble about how he fucking despised the snow, Gavin sat in his car, key in the ignition & the heat full blast.

_ Just drive, Gavin. Get to Detroit. A hitchhiker isn’t your goddamn problem. _

But the snow kept falling & Gavin’s thoughts kept spiraling, there was no fucking way he was going to be able to drive anywhere with so much going on in his head at once.

Hell, he couldn’t even leave Connor behind when there  _ wasn’t _ a fucking snowstorm, when he hadn’t known what Connor’s favourite colour was or the fact he was an artist.

He couldn’t leave Connor behind when the man had been nothing more than an inconvenience, so how could he warrant himself to leave the state now?

To leave Connor to freeze to death somewhere in the streets of South Dakota in nothing more than a hoodie & jeans that were nowhere near warm enough to fend off the freezing winter?

Gavin glared at the passenger seat. Vacant bar for the blanket he had thrown there. 

The blanket that Connor was supposed to be wrapped up in.

The passenger seat that Connor was supposed to be sat in.

_ Fuck. _

“Fuck!” Gavin slammed his hands against his steering wheel, accidentally triggering the horn & making himself jump like a fucking moron.

He had waited, waited & waited a little more, staring out at the stark white blanket, waiting impatiently for his stupid stranger to come back to the motel to see if he was still there.

But Connor never came back.

So Gavin drove. Not out of town, not even that far. He just drove to the nearest bar that was open given the weather & he drank.

He drank & he drank & he drank a little more.

The burn of the whiskey in his throat helped his body to forget just how cold it was, even inside a building that had heating keeping the shivers at bay. 

He drank until he forgot it was snowing, until he forgot what he had done. He drank until he forgot about that stupid necklace & that stupid stranger.

Or at least, he tried.

It was a stupid idea, but Connor didn’t have any other place to be. 

He backtracked along the roads they took to get to the drive-in theatre & even though that was an hour long drive, Connor had all the time in the world to walk the route until he made it there to see if that was where Gavin had lost his necklace.

He had been walking for about two hours straight before taking a break at a diner, only to be kicked out after an hour of idling when he only didn’t order anything more than a simple black coffee. At least that was an hour of resting his feet. 

Back on his journey, Connor had no clue how long he had been walking for when it began to snow softly, little flurries catching in the winds that quickly morphed into something a little more heavy.

The freezing temperatures paired with everything growing foggy with the whiteness of the snow, Connor had no choice but to flag down a car in the hopes of getting a ride to where he needed to go.

After pulling ten bucks from his shoe, stuffing it into his hoodie pocket & seven cars ignoring him later, one finally pulled over. 

Honestly, Connor was surprised that anyone stopped at all. Given that he still looked as though he had been used as a human punching bag. Which, was sort of exactly what happened, really.

Connor’s gut feeling was reminding him of all the things that could happen to him when alone with a stranger in a confined space, but it wasn’t exactly like he had any other options. Besides, Gavin seemed really fond of that necklace.

Settling himself into the passenger side of the car, Connor brushed the snow from his shoulders before he rubbed his hands together. He cupped them in front of his face in the hopes of warming them up with his breath.

“Thanks for s-stopping.” Connor murmured through a shiver, glancing over to the woman in the driver’s side. He offered a gentle smile from behind where he was still rubbing his hands together in front of his face. “I just need to get to the drive-in theatre. It’s pretty local-”

“A drive-in? In this weather?” The woman looked at him with an almost confused look, hand reaching out to turn up the car’s heating systems without needing to be asked. 

Like Gavin in that way. Not completely shitty. Connor nodded as a thank you, deciding to hunch forward in his seat so he could press his hands in front of the little vents instead as they began to blow out air far warmer than his breath.

“My-” Could he call Gavin his friend? His companion? A complete fucking stranger who had kicked him to the curb? “-I lost something. Was thinking that I left it back there.”

The woman studied him for a few moments, as though what he said was utterly puzzling. But there was an ever subtle smile at the corners of her lips & she nodded.

“Good luck finding it in this weather, but I appreciate the dedication to whatever was lost.” The woman sighed out a rather breathy laugh, but nonetheless, began to drive. She kept the speed slow as the snow quickly covered the roads & the sidewalk, leaving it a mystery to where the curb ended & the road began. “Must be important.”

_ Yeah, must be. _

It had gotten so dark so quickly due to the foggy grey that had rolled in. That grey that often paired with harsh winter snowstorms, so it had the street lamps already turning on, illuminating the roads in a dull yellow against stark whites.

Connor stayed quiet as he watched out the window for a while before his curiosity got the better of him, just as it always did & he began to gaze around the car, taking in any little pieces of information he could.

He still wasn’t sure why he did it. Needing to know as much as he could from someone he was with. He still didn’t know much about Gavin, he had so much to learn. 

He knew Gavin’s preferred coffee order & his favourite brand of cigarettes. He knew the man preferred music with no lyrics, just soft beats that he could get lost in, that he could nod his head & tap his fingers across the wheel to. 

He knew Gavin liked blueberries & that he wasn’t colourblind. He knew Gavin wasn’t afraid of dying, or worse, that much was apparent. Who the hell else picks up strangers in the road & lets them sleep in the same room as them?

Gavin didn’t look as though he was afraid of anything. Besides whoever or whatever it was that he was running from.

Sure, he knew those things, but Gavin was still a stranger. He just wanted him to be _ his  _ stranger. He wanted to be Gavin’s stranger, too. Connor was a fool, but he wanted more from what they had.

He still had so many questions that he wanted to ask. 

Does he have a plan, a real plan, one that wasn’t just a lie? Who was Tina, the lady on the phone? Was she kind? Was she family? What was his favourite colour? Favourite planet or season? Why was there one bullet missing- 

Too many questions that he would likely never get answers to. 

Connor should just leave. Carry on with his travels to Michigan, not look for that stupid necklace in a place that would be covered in snow by the time he got there. He should just forget about Gavin. He wasn’t even that nice anyway.

He was only nice because everyone else had treated Connor so poorly, so that in comparison, Gavin’s actions felt far, far kinder. Common decency didn’t make someone nice. It just made them human.

Human in a world so riddled with monsters.

Connor really should just go.

But, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. 

Nines always told him that he loved too easily, felt too much, held onto too much hope & perhaps that was exactly what he was doing now. Holding onto hope.

Hope in the form of finding a little necklace. 

It was going to be like finding a needle in a haystack. But perhaps if he found that necklace, Gavin would be a little less mad.

If he could find him again, that was.

Connor’s gaze drifted to the lanyard that was hooked over the rear-view mirror. It had a little I.D card attached, but a little keychain hooked to it covered up most of the information.

The most Connor could make out was that his mystery driver worked for a police department. Which one, he couldn’t tell. He could just about make out the outline of a police badge logo printed on the I.D card, but everything else was covered.

Shit.

Of course the only person that would stop for him would be fucking police.

What if she knew? What if she knew what he had done back in Oregon? What if she had been looking for him this whole time, but because Connor didn’t have a phone, he couldn’t stay up to date with the news? Did the police find the bodies? Did they know it was him? Was he about to be sent to prison? Fuck, he hoped not. 

They deserved it.

It was self defence.

_ It was self defence. It was self de- _

To snap himself out of his thoughts before they consumed him, Connor spoke up. “Do y-” He cut himself off with a cough, hoping it would help alleviate some of the nerves in his voice & the tightness in his throat as his panic began to slowly creep up on him, wrapping around his windpipe.

He tried again.

“Do you work around here?”

Connor tried to keep his voice as neutral as possible, gesturing to the partially covered I.D card before meeting the stranger’s eyes for barely a second. Her gaze flickered to him, then immediately back to the road.

He needed small talk. Small talk that would help him deduct whether or not it was worth flinging himself out of the car & into the snow to try to run away.

“Oh, no, no. I work a few states over.”

_ A few states over. _

Hopefully not fucking Oregon.

The freezing man nodded, still holding his hands in front of the little vents, a soft sigh escaping his lips as his body ever so slowly began to warm up. “What brings you out here in weather like this?” Connor asked, hoping it wasn’t too forward. 

“Same thing as you, I suppose.”

“Oh?”

“I lost something too. Well, more like  _ someone.” _

Shit.

This was it. This was how his story ends. Not with a bang or a happy ending. Not with Gavin, lost somewhere in between state lines with shitty diner coffee & blueberry pancakes. It ended because he optionally chose to climb into a police officer’s car when they were actively looking for him.

_ You’re overthinking, Con. If she knew who you were, she would have arrested you by now. Stop being paranoid. Why are you always so paranoid? _

_ Probably because I killed three men. _

_ Oh, right. _

Connor was beginning to think that perhaps paranoid was his middle name.

If she wasn’t looking for him & was genuinely just looking for a missing person, then what the hell was Connor to say? Missing people rarely came back, everyone knew that. Runaways rarely came back.

Connor was just going to end up being another statistic, just like whoever it was this woman was looking for.

“I hope you find them.” He murmured as softly as he could, going from studying the driver’s face to looking out of the window again at the blanket of nothingness. 

His mind drifted to Gavin. As it often did.

Was he ever going to see him again? He wondered if Gavin cared. He wondered if Gavin was thinking about him.

As he tipped his head a little to look up at the darkness of the sky that had overtaken the sun so quickly, he wondered if Gavin was doing the same thing. If he was, he was probably sparking up a cigarette as though the thing could warm up his lungs. Cursing about how it was too fucking cold.

“I hope so too.” The lady finally replied as she pulled the car to a stop on the side of the road. Connor could just about make out the vast emptiness of where the drive-in theatre sat. Nothing but a blanket of snow & an empty screen that the movie was projected onto when they had been there.

Now it lay vacant. Empty & sad. 

Sounded familiar.

Connor opened the door slightly, the whistling winds immediately being heard as though he had opened a fucking air-lock, a shiver running down his spine. Yep, he was going to freeze to death out there. Turn into a human popsicle. But if you made it to the centre, there would be nothing sweet inside.

“Are you sure about this?” The lady asked, leaning over Connor to rummage through the glove box. No guns with one bullet missing in there. Perhaps he had picked the wrong companion back in Idaho.

As she leaned over him, Connor couldn’t help but catch the faint smell of sandalwood. Fuck, was that nice in comparison to stale cigarette smoke. Not that he minded the cigarettes, but it was just nice to smell something else. Something a little more comforting & homely. 

Yeah, homely. Like he knew what that really was.

When Connor said yes & that he didn’t want to take up anymore of her time, she pushed a pair of hand-knit orange & pink gloves into his hand before sitting back in her seat. “At least take these. Then maybe you’ll get to keep your hands.”

Connor laughed at that. He couldn’t help it. This stranger reminded him of Gavin, sort of. So blunt with her words. Her sentences were short, their conversations nothing more than a few words with longer spaces in between. 

Perhaps Gavin would have gotten along with her. Just three, sad people, all looking for something to keep them going.

Connor took the gloves, immediately putting them on before pulling the ten dollars from his pocket to offer it to the driver with an ever so faint smile. “For stopping.”

She pushed his hand away with the shake of her head. “People shouldn’t be paid for common decency.”

Connor nodded & tucked the money away, selfishly grateful that she didn’t take it, because it meant he could return it to his ‘Rainy Day Fund’ that was split between his shoes.

“Want me to keep an eye out for your missing person?” Connor asked with one leg already out of the car, ready to step into the freezing abyss that awaited for him.

“I doubt you’ll ever find him! He doesn’t like to be found!” The lady shouted over the sound of the winds, but still, she grabbed a pen from her cup-holder that instead housed pens & crumpled up pieces of paper. “Hand!”

Connor tugged one of the gloves off for a moment, holding his hand out to her, knowing what was coming next. The lady immediately grabbed his hand & scribbled down her phone number across his palm.

“He’s about 5’9, brown hair, looks like an asshole!” The winds were picking up heavier now, whistling through the car & messing up Connor’s already messy hair. “He’s got a tattoo of a raven across his chest & has a scar on his nose. If you think you see him, call me!”

The woman offered Connor a sad smile as she let go of his hand & all Connor could do was nod dumbly as he pulled the glove back over his hand after inspecting the number.

He knew someone with a scar on their nose who looked like an asshole. Who  _ was _ an asshole.

Were the cops looking for Gavin? The man had been taking back roads when they were still in Idaho… They had met because Gavin was speeding away from the sound of sirens.

Was Gavin in trouble?

“I’ll let you know! Th-thanks again!” Connor called back as he pulled his hood up over his head & hopped out of the car, shutting the door behind him before trekking towards the freezing nothingness that waited for him.

He never told the woman that he might know about who she was looking for. He didn’t tell her that he didn’t have a phone. He didn’t tell her anything. Because Connor was selfish.

He needed to be as far away from the police as possible & if Gavin was in some sort of legal trouble too, then Connor wasn’t about to turn him over, not when he still had so many questions to ask the man.

He still had so much to learn.

He didn’t want Gavin to be taken away from him.

That thought didn’t leave Connor. The whole time he was out in the snow, it floated around his mind.

Hours passed. 

Connor wasn’t even sure how many, he just knew it had to be a lot. If the way his hands were beginning to seize up from beneath the gloves was anything to go off of, he had been out here in the snow for at least four hours. 

To begin with, he had just walked through the snow with his hood up & arms wrapped around himself as he tried his best to determine whereabouts it was that they had parked the car while watching the movie, basing it off of the distance away from the screen.

He kicked some of the snow away around that given area, trying to see if the chain of the necklace caught the light from the street lamps in the distance. Of course it wouldn’t. He knew it wouldn’t. So why was he trying?

Why was he bothering at all?

Still, Connor eventually dropped onto his knees in the white blanket that was growing & growing, pushing away the snow as he felt around the wet grass of the field beneath, frantically trying to find that goddamn necklace.

He wanted to find the necklace & run all the way back to the motel. If Gavin was even still there. He wanted to shove it into Gavin’s hands, grab his hand & run. Tell him the cops were after him & that they needed to go.

Even if he had to search the whole field for the damn necklace, he would. Until his hands froze up & his lungs iced over. Until his lips sealed shut from the cold & he couldn’t bear to draw in another breath.

He had nothing else to live for in that moment & besides, it was another step in avoiding getting closer to Michigan. He didn’t want to get to Michigan. It’d mean starting over. He didn’t want to start over.

He wanted a reset button. To go back that night. To not step foot into his ex-boyfriend’s apartment when he knew the man was going to be drinking with his friends. To just go to Hank’s like the plan was. To have dinner with his brother & their adoptive dad. 

Connor spent far too long for any one man on his hands & knees, angrily shoving away the snow until tears began to slip down his cheeks. “F-Fuck you!” He snapped, shouting at nothing in particular.

The gloves he had been given were drenched through now, his hands freezing & if he took the gloves off, he was sure they’d be red raw from the cold. His nose was running & the tip of it was bright pink. His eyes hurt, straining against the angry winds, his tears only serving to make his face more cold.

“F-Fuck you for making me think I could be happy!” He sobbed, his memories of what brought him to this point bombarding him from all directions. The fear, sadness, betrayal & hurt all wracking his body.

After Connor had killed them, killed the man that he loved & the men he thought were his friends, he bottled it all away.

His shaking, bloody hands bolted up the door after he wiped away any evidence of him being there & he limped to Hank’s home where they were supposed to have dinner that night.

It was their ‘family’ tradition. He & his brother would have a meal at Hank’s every Tuesday & Friday evening. Connor cooked on Tuesdays, Nines on Fridays.

So when Connor limped through the door with blood on his clothes that wasn’t his own & had to explain everything that had happened with a numbness not only to his body, but to his mind & heart, he shoved all of the sickening feelings far, far down.

They never got their family dinner, Connor never got his happy ending. He ran away just like Hank told him to & kept everything as bottled up as he could.

Of course it was only a matter of time before the bottle cap flung off & everything came spilling out. Overflowing & consuming his whole body.

So Connor let it happen. He let it all out, let his sadness flow out through tears that he was surprised didn’t freeze to his face. Let his anger come out in the form of him shouting expletives at the empty nothingness that he was kneeling in.

“A-and fuck you, Gavin! Fuck you for making me forget about them th-then making me leave when I didn’t do anything wrong!” 

Because that was just it, wasn’t it? Connor liked Gavin like Nines liked the pills in his medicine cabinet. Like Hank liked the liquor in his fridge. Connor liked Gavin in the same way he liked what the money in his shoes was going to be used on. Later, Connor would learn that he liked Gavin like Gavin liked violence.

Connor liked Gavin because Gavin, momentarily, had Connor somehow forgetting.

Had Connor feeling. Feeling something other than anguish & agony.

Now he was gone. Just like everything else in Connor’s life that had any purpose. Lost somewhere along with little pieces of himself that he gave to them.

Little pieces that he’d never get back.

So he shouted & cried until his voice was hoarse. Until no more tears came out. Until his arms were so weak that his elbows gave way & buckled, leaving him face down in the snow. Leaving him to roll onto his side in the freezing, white blanket, drawing his knees to his heaving chest.

Leaving him alone & cold. Again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here](https://open.spotify.com/track/2CCy0wnJTtUIMoHpmGRcwM) is the song that the title is taken from, the lyrics fit these two boys absolutely flawlessly, I think, especially from Gavin's perspective. Check it out!  
> If you have read this far, thank you & I sincerely hope you are enjoying this story so far.


	5. Whiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite being apart, neither Gavin nor Connor seem to be able to think about anything other than one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy reading<3

“Y’know, a wise guy once told me that our fingerprints, they uh, they don’t fade from the lives that we’ve touched, y’know?” Gavin mumbled around the cigarette that was pressed between his lips, looking down to where he was buckling up his pants. 

Little bruises were beginning to form along his hip bones.

“The fuck you on about, man?” The stranger asked after shoving Gavin away as he too, tucked himself away & buckled up his pants. He tucked his shirt back into them so he could look as though he didn’t just fuck a drunken stranger in a shitty bar’s bathroom stalls.

Shit, Gavin really didn’t have any dignity left, did he?

After all, he was the one to initiate it.

Gavin traced his fingers along the fingerprint shaped bruising one last time before pulling his shirt back down, adjusting his jacket back around himself. As he did so, he patted his pockets to look for his lighter. “Ya think it’s true?”

“Why the fuck would I care about some poetic bullshit? I got what I wanted, fuck off.”

“Excellent bedside manners, my man.” Gavin vacantly chuckled as he leaned against the wall of the cubicle they were both in, sparking up his cigarette before pocketing his lighter again. 

There was a law against smoking indoors, but A, it was a shitty fucking bar & B, there was no way he was about to have a cigarette in a goddamn snowstorm.

Gavin tipped his head back slightly as he slowly blew the smoke out, watching it as his head spun from both the alcohol & the nicotine rush... perhaps having this stranger’s hands around his neck earlier didn’t exactly help all that much either. At one point, he was sure he nearly passed out. Maybe he did. Not like it mattered.

After another drag, Gavin tipped his head enough to look at the sleazebag that had just fucked his brains out, all the while still resting his head back against the wall. He held out his cigarette to offer the man a drag.

The guy - that he still had no idea what his name was - took it with a grunt in place of a thank you, gesturing towards the door. “You can fuck off now, don’t make it weird.”

“You never answered my question.”

“‘Cause I don’t care! Them bruises I left you ain’t going anywhere for awhile, that much I know.” The man smirked, one of those dangerous smirks that would have anyone else running for the fucking door.

But not Gavin. Gavin wanted to antagonise him.

The stranger flicked the cigarette into the toilet bowl, earning an irritated scowl from Gavin that didn’t exactly last long when a body was being pressed up against him, hand wrapped around his throat, fingers pressing over the bruises that were already forming. “I can leave more to help ya remember that? Let everyone know that you’re just some dirty bathroom whore.”

“Now that…” Gavin attempted to swallow, his Adam’s apple straining against the palm that was pressing against his throat. “...Is just rude. Not the whore thing, I wasn’t done with that cigarette.”

_ Priorities, Gavin. Priorities. _

It was what Gavin wanted though, wasn’t it? To have more bruises. The violence. It’s why he was trying to aggravate the guy with cryptic quotes & not shutting the fuck up.

Gavin reached a hand up to wrap around the man’s wrist, trying to pry it from his throat, earning a bitter laugh for his efforts. Of fucking course he was enjoying it. Gavin hadn’t expected anything less.

Gavin jolted his leg up, knee colliding with the man’s crotch which, rather than earning Gavin his freedom, instead had the bigger man all but throwing him into the opposing wall with enough force that when Gavin’s body slammed into it, the whole stall shook.

A grunt of pain left Gavin that was quickly followed up by a hollow chuckle as he shoved himself up & in the same motion, used his momentum to throw a punch right to the man’s nose, smirking slightly as he felt cartilage crack beneath his knuckles.

Oh yeah, now this was far more enjoyable than having his face slammed against a bathroom stall wall as some stranger fucked him senseless. Honestly, he thought it’d help him forget. 

It didn’t.

The whole time, he couldn’t push the thoughts out of his head that this could have been him & Connor, but so fucking drastically different.

When Connor was cold, it had taken everything in Gavin to not slide into bed beside him, wrap his arms around him & pull his companion right against his chest, holding him tight until he warmed up. Connor could have fallen asleep against his chest & for once in his life felt safe.

Perhaps if Connor wanted to, if he was okay with it, they could have wound up tangled in each other’s bodies in motel sheets. The smell of shitty motel soap surrounding them, that pine & jasmine scent attached to their clothes as they helped each other out of them.

Gavin could have kissed over the scars on Connor’s back that he pretended he didn’t see. Gavin could have shown Connor that not all men were absolutely terrible. That things could be okay.

But he didn’t even believe that last line himself, did he?

Gavin could have shown Connor kindness. 

Instead, he got angry over something that seemed so fucking insignificant in the grand scheme of it all. 

Instead, Gavin got just drunk enough that the bathroom stall he was in didn’t feel so dirty & the pain he’d feel over the next few days wasn’t so intense as right in that moment.

Knocking him out of his thoughts, a solid right hook collided against Gavin’s jaw with enough force that his teeth clattered together & well shit, if that didn’t fucking hurt.

Gavin tried to throw another right back, but the bastard saw it coming. He ducked & Gavin’s fist collided full force with the stall wall instead, yanking a surprised  _ ‘Fuck!’ _ from his throat in the process.

A sleazy smirk crossed the man’s face, as though he was real fucking proud of himself for dodging one fucking punch.

Somehow, that was that made Gavin more angry. Not the cruel words that were being spewed at him, or the overwhelming sense of feeling dirty & used, no, it was the man dodging a punch that triggered his hostilities.

Gavin managed to gain the upper hand, slamming the man against the stall wall despite being kneed in the stomach & threw punch after punch at the man’s face.

Punch after punch, Gavin was letting out all of his anger at the world, taking it out on this one man that from the moment he stepped foot into the bar, had decided that he was going to be the one to deal with his bullshit.

He let the stranger believe he was too drunk to quite consent to what was happening, even though he was most definitely okay with it all. He let him believe it was all his own choice, when in reality, it was Gavin’s.

It wasn’t the first time he’d done such a thing. He did it on the especially bad nights; when his sleep was plagued with nightmares of him shooting his own brother. He’d do anything to forget.

Some people used vices like alcohol or drugs. Gavin found the thrill of a fight was his momentary euphoria.

Violence always worked.

Perhaps it was because it’s what Gavin had always known, violence was a language he was fluent in.

Gavin was snapped out of his spiraling thoughts as one of his feet were kicked to the side, causing him to get knocked off of balance from where he was rearranging the bridge of the man’s bleeding nose with his knuckles.

There was an opening there, a chance for Gavin to dodge the hands that were ready to grab at his jacket, but he didn’t. He just… let it happen.

He let the man launch at him, let him shove him through the cubicle door & out of the bathroom door too, let him pin him to the sticky ground beside the bar, let him pull him up by a fist in the lapels of his jacket, let the man throw punch after punch at his face.

If Gavin was being honest, they were pretty shit punches. Weak with no effort put behind them. Nothing like what Connor had received on that first night when he had nearly run him over. After this, Gavin wouldn’t need to put butterfly stitches over his face like Connor did. Even though he deserved them. Connor didn’t.

“Take it outside!” Gavin heard the bartender shout. He tipped his head to the side, blood seeping out from between his lips & through his bleary vision he could see the bartender leaning over the bar, pointing to the back door. “Get the fuck out before I call the cops!”

Shit, this guy didn’t even care if this man killed Gavin or not, just as long as he didn’t get blood on his dirty bar floor.

The bigger man actually stopped what he was doing when the bartender shouted at them, giving Gavin the chance to wriggle out from beneath where he was being pinned down. 

But not before getting booted in the ribs full force by the prick who had already fucked him up enough tonight. It had Gavin very nearly throwing up all of the alcohol contents of his stomach. He was surprised he didn’t.

Fuck did his ribs & face hurt. 

Gavin staggered to his feet, stumbling as the whole world began to tilt & turn violently, his hands flying out to clutch onto the edge of the bar so he didn’t break his very likely already broken nose on the fucking floor. 

When his head stopped spinning & his vision returned from its blotchy state back to normal, albeit a little fuzzy around the edges, it vaguely dawned on Gavin what he must look like.

He could feel his face was sticky with his own blood, it had run from his nose, down into his mouth, some from his mouth trickling out of the corner of his lips.

Great. Bet he looked fucking fantastic. Red did suit him, after all.

“Thanks for the shitty whiskey!” Gavin’s words came out sort of all mushed together & he patted the surface of the bar twice for good measure before stumbling his way towards the exit.

The moment he stepped foot into the freezing snow, the bar door was slammed closed behind him.

“Fucking assholes.” He grumbled to nobody but himself. He rubbed his already freezing hands together as he squinted his eyes, trying to make out where the fuck he parked his car in amongst the vast fogginess & snow that was quickly becoming knee deep.

The bitter air nipped at the splits in Gavin’s skin along his knuckles, causing him to hiss in pain at the simple movement of trying to keep his hands warm.

After about ten minutes of stumbling, almost falling face first into the snow & trudging through it all, Gavin managed to get to his car. 

He double checked it was definitely his by inspecting the fucking dent in the front left from when he swerved out of the way of Connor, then he unlocked it & all but collapsed onto the backseat, where he proceeded to pass the fuck out for a few hours.

Gavin saying ‘I’ll never drink again’ was the equivalent of the sky saying it would never rain again. It was total bullshit. Perhaps there would be a dry spell, nothing but sun for weeks on end, but then the torrential rain would come right after. It always did.

Yet, after waking up in the back of his car, leaning out of the door to throw up the contents of his stomach before wallowing in self pity for about an hour as he used wipes from his first-aid kit to do a poor job of cleaning himself up; Gavin grumbled those four little words to himself.

_ I’ll never drink again. _

Another fabricated truth added onto the ever growing pile of lies that he was carrying around, baggage getting so heavy that his shoulders were starting to crumble beneath the weight.

Gavin groaned as his foggy head cleared up just enough for him to recount all that had happened before he passed out in the back of his car. 

He used the wipes to clean up his nose as carefully as he could, along with the split in his lip. He cleaned up his knuckles too, but didn’t bother putting band-aids over the little wounds & a small part of him wondered if Connor would chastise him for not fixing himself up properly.

A small part of him wondered if Connor would care. But he wasn’t here, so it didn’t matter.

He took a moment to raise his shirt to look at the bruising along his ribs. Bruising that was there from a previous fight he had got into just before finding Connor, bruising that would only be amplified in the next few days from the kick he had received to his already injured ribs.

From time to time, it sort of hurt to breathe. It hurt to inhale too much or lie on that side. 

Gavin knew he should get it checked out, just to be sure there was nothing going on internally, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t. Because if it killed him, then it killed him. At least then he could be with Elijah.

So no, he wouldn’t get it checked out, even when something as natural as breathing hurt, he would just keep on going. Keep on going until one day, his body decided it had had enough, until his soul decided it wanted to move house.

Once he had finished metaphorically licking his wounds, Gavin drove slowly back towards the motel, pleasantly surprised that his car was handling the deep snow so well. 

He was all of two seconds away from turning in the motel parking lot, when he spotted a police car parked near the front entrance. 

_ Shit. _

Gavin pushed side what he was thinking about & quickly surveyed the scene, trying to piece together whether or not it was just a coincidence, whether it was worth playing it cool & going back to his room, to see if Connor had come back, or whether he should drive the fuck away.

Seeing as there was still alcohol on his breath & blood on his clothes, Gavin selfishly decided that the latter was the better option. 

Even though Connor too, was running away & needed to avoid the police. Even though there was an ever so slim chance that Connor had gone back to that motel room, Gavin couldn’t warrant getting caught by the cops for what he had done.

He was selfish.

Fuck, was he paranoid. It could have all just simply been a coincidence, just a police officer asking about something completely unrelated. After all, it wasn’t exactly like Gavin was the only criminal in the state.

But being paranoid was better than being overconfident. Sleeping in his car & motels were better than a fucking prison cell.

He wouldn’t be able to bear seeing Tina’s face if she visited him. The disappointment that would sit in those sad eyes of hers as she told him about their cat & what life was like on the outside.

He couldn’t fucking do it.

He saw the back of a female police officer speaking to the motel clerk in the reception & Gavin simply reversed the car out of where he was about to pull into the lot. He took a few quick lefts & rights, despite the way the wheels on his car were struggling to grip the road, so he was out of view of any police that may decide to patrol that area.

In some areas, the snow had to have been up to his shins & knees. As he drove, a few times Gavin had to hop out of his car & give it a good shove to get it rolling again. So much for the thing handling the snow well.

He’d jog around & hop back in, just keep driving around the ever so quiet town for most of the day until it turned to night & he couldn’t warrant wasting anymore petrol on a lost cause.

A lost cause also known as Connor.

Gavin hadn’t been driving around the city for no reason. He drove slowly, not only due to the snow, but to keep his eye out along the sides of the road, hoping to whoever-the-fuck that he’d somehow come across his companion that he had so selfishly kicked to the curb.

If Connor wasn’t in that motel, then surely he couldn’t have gotten too far on foot in this sort of weather.

It was stupid. So fucking stupid. Like looking for a needle in a haystack. Connor could be holed up in a building somewhere, could have hopped in a car with a different stranger, one that didn’t have a gun with a bullet missing, one that was actually a good person.

Doubtful. But he could have.

But, it was the middle of a snowstorm in the middle of fucking December in the middle of a state that neither of them were familiar with & the guilt of kicking Connor out to suffer alone in the cold was going to eat him up alive.

Gavin thought that perhaps when he was in the middle of that drunken bar fight, one of the many punches he endured would have been just hard enough to knock some sense into him. To knock out any emotions he had tied to a fucking stranger & allow him to carry on with his downward spiral to his own self demise.

But all he could fucking think about was Connor.

Even when his own name tasted so foreign on his tongue, Connor’s sounded so goddamn familiar.

How the fuck did a stranger have such an effect on him?

Gavin was wasting what little money he had on gas so he could drag out driving around the city & every goddamn backroad as though somehow, Connor would miraculously stumble in front of his car all over again.

But there was no such luck & by the time the moon was at her peak in the sky, Gavin had decided that he couldn’t put off getting to the next state any longer.

So, despite the guilt that sat in the pit of his stomach that was somehow more sour that the alcohol he had drank hours earlier, Gavin pulled onto the highway. He was ready to see mile after fucking mile of eerily silent roads & be greeted with that ‘The people of Iowa welcome you’ sign once he got there

Every so often, Gavin’s eyes would flicker to the passenger side, as though he expected Connor to be sitting there, watching out of the window as the world passed them by.

But each time he was greeted with an empty seat & that guilt washed over him like a fucking wave. 

Gavin had actively wanted to get rid of Connor in the first day or two, after realising that he really didn’t care about him paying for the damage done to his car. 

He didn’t care, because he could see that the stranger had so much more to try to deal with & piling onto that wasn’t fair. No matter how much Gavin tried to convince himself that he didn’t care, perhaps it was quite the opposite.

But could he really say he cared, when he had kicked Connor out? When he knew he had nowhere else to go?

Connor was a light that was slipping through the cracks of Gavin’s fractured being, bleeding into the dark parts of him & making them better. But just as with everything else good in his life, Gavin had shoved it far, far away.

For a fleeting moment, it wasn’t just Connor that Gavin thought about when glancing to that passenger seat. Every so often, phasing in & out of varying stages of awake & ‘I should definitely pull over’, Gavin thought about Elijah.

He thought about how Elijah would have absolutely adored Connor if he had met him. Gavin was sure that if he were in an alternate universe where the grass was greener & the seas were cleaner, he would have had to have wrestled with his brother for Connor’s hand.

Tina would have loved him too. A quiet artist with pretty whiskey brown eyes & a story that Gavin could try to convince himself that he didn’t care for, but deep down wanted to hear. A mystery. Tina loved mysteries.

In another life, perhaps they could have all been laughing & smiling together, but then again, if Elijah was still here, then Gavin would have never met Connor.

If the flap of a butterfly’s wings in the Amazon could cause a tornado in Texas, was Gavin pulling that trigger a catalyst event that led to him meeting a stranger that had him momentarily forgetting about said event?

Fuck, he was too sober to think like that.

If he kept thinking like that, he would surely gain a headache worse than the one he already had, so Gavin pushed aside every bitter thought that had him realising that the only reason he & Connor knew each other was due to the tragedies they were both running from.

Yet again… He found himself running, alone.

Yet again, it was his fault.

In between wallowing in self pity & thinking a little too much about the vacant seat beside him, Gavin must have drifted off.

It was only for a few moments, but it was strange how a few moments in waking hours could be so much longer when asleep.

All of his bitter thoughts fizzled away momentarily, becoming nothing more than a distant memory as he looked over to that passenger seat & there Connor was, smiling back at him before looking to the radio as he flicked through the stations.

“There are never any good songs on the radio anymore.” Connor spoke, voice sounding a little distracted as he continued to flick from one station to the next. “No wonder you prefer the ones with no words.”

It wasn’t even that he necessarily preferred the ones that didn’t have any lyrics, he just found that they were easier to drive to. They were easier to get lost in, to tap along to the beat on his steering wheel as he drove.

Dragging his eyes from Connor, Gavin looked out to the empty road ahead, the sun setting just in front of them & lighting the sky in an array of deep oranges. Those would soon fade into a deep blanket of blue-black & the only light would come from the headlights on Gavin’s car due to the main road lamps being out for some strange reason.

“Where are we going?” Gavin asked as he drove, eyes flickering to Connor every so often then back to the road, asking that question as though just a few moments ago, that passenger seat wasn’t empty & Connor wasn’t lost in the snow somewhere.

“Where it’s safe.”

Huh.

“Where exactly is that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Me either.”

Gavin didn’t understand what was happening, didn’t have the time to try to process what those words could mean, because right as he was about to open his mouth to say something else, Connor skipped the radio station again & Gavin had the sudden need to stop him as he heard the first few notes of a song that he loved. 

For just a few, fleeting moments, it was as though all of the sadness had been washed away.

Seeing as Gavin only ever drove with one hand on the wheel, he used his free one to gently take Connor’s hand away from the radio. “I love this song!” He shouted as he let go of Connor’s hand to turn up the volume until the speakers vibrated with the distinctive strumming sound of country guitars.

Gavin grinned at Connor, earning a wide grin right back. One where those pretty brown eyes crinkled at the edges & little divots formed in his cheeks.

A beautiful sight.

Gavin only placed his other hand on the wheel so he could use it as a makeshift drum kit, tapping away to the beat, his head nodding in time too. 

As the lyrics kicked in, Gavin sang them as though it was the last goddamn thing he’d ever get to say.

_ ‘Well, whiskey come & take my pain, numb my heart & ease my brain, _

_ Oh whiskey, don’t you let me go! Whiskey, won't you help me hide, this pain I have inside, _

_ Oh whiskey, don’t you let me go!’ _

“C’mon, Con!” Gavin shouted over the sound of the music pouring through the speakers, gently nudging Connor in the shoulder with his knuckles. Not a punch, just a nudge. “Sing with me!”

“I don’t know the words!”

“Then pretend you do!” 

Connor laughed at that, it was quickly followed by a shake of his head as though making up lyrics or singing to a song that you don’t know the words to was the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

As though that was somehow more absurd than hopping in a car with a fucking stranger.

As the next lyrics kicked in, Gavin sang them, happy to hear Connor was mumbling along too.

_ ‘Well this bridge that I’ve been living under burned into the ground, _

_ I’ve done packed my bags, now I’m leaving town, _

_ Ain’t no peace or comfort I’ve found.’ _

Then, as that chorus kicked in from a minute earlier, Connor remembered the words from when Gavin had sung them & sang them just as loudly.

The lyrics hit harder than they were intended to, but the duo sang intentionally badly & out of tune together to a song that Gavin hadn’t heard in years. 

Speakers vibrating, car shaking, Connor tapping the beat on his thighs as Gavin did the same on the steering wheel & for a few moments, everything was okay.

Connor tipped his head against where it was resting against the headrest, eyes meeting with Gavin’s as he sang the chorus, a smile on his face the whole time. 

When the chorus faded out to the outro, Gavin stopped his headbanging, eyes drifting to meet Connor’s & it felt as though everything else had faded out too, as though he wasn’t driving at all.

It was as though everything else around them melted away & all he could focus on was those pretty brown eyes that were so similar to the whiskey that burned his throat, to the whiskey that they were just singing about.

Perhaps Gavin had sung those words with so much confidence, not about the liquor, but about the man beside him. Momentarily easing his pain & having him forget about the vacancy in his chest where his heart should be.

“Gavin?”

“Hm?”

“Gavin!”

As quickly as that little moment of euphoria was there, it was gone. 

Their moment of happiness, just like the few others that Gavin had experienced were stripped away & stolen. Replaced with Connor shouting at Gavin to pay attention to the road, shoving at his arm as he pointed out of the front window right as two bright lights blinded them both.

“Gavin! Wake up!” Connor yelled as he shoved Gavin harder this time. “Wake the fuck u-”

His companion’s sentence was cut off as Gavin jolted back awake, right in time to swerve out of the way of a 16-wheeler truck honking its horn repeatedly, all of two seconds away from colliding with Gavin head on.

“Fuck!” In his panic, Gavin yanked on the steering wheel, swerving to the side while having momentarily forgotten about the snow on the roads, which in turn, made it impossible for his car’s wheels to grip the road no matter how hard they tried.

In his rear-view mirror, Gavin could see the truck that nearly killed him simply driving away without so much as a skid. 

Thankfully for Gavin, he was already close to pulling off the freeway, which meant the foliage that surrounded the road he was skidding onto cushioned the blow.

After a way too fucking long fight with his car, Gavin had somehow managed to get it under control just long enough as to not smash through the guard rails & right into the freeway below, instead skidding onto the conjoining main road & colliding bonnet first, a little too quickly, into a tree trunk.

His head hit off of his steering wheel upon impact, eliciting a groaned out, “Fuck!” from the man as his airbags decided to not deploy. 

It took a long few moments for Gavin’s world to stop spinning so he could even think about fluttering his eyes back open. Despite the way light grey smoke was beginning to make its way out from beneath the hood of Gavin’s car, the man stayed resting his head against his steering wheel as he caught his breath, head pounding too much to warrant trying to move too quickly.

Fuck. 

Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck! _

As the world slowed back down along with his heart rate, Gavin slowly tipped his head as he blinked away the fuzziness in his vision to peer over at the passenger side of the car as though to check on Connor.

A Connor that wasn’t there.

Oh, right.

_ Just a dream, Gavin, it was just a fucking dream. _

_ Falling asleep at the fucking wheel? That’s a new low, even for you. _

Gavin chastised himself in his own head as he reached a hand back with a wince at the movement to his shoulder, reaching into his back pocket to pull his phone out, squinting at the cracked, too bright screen.

With shaking hands, he typed out his passcode & unlocked it, quickly scrolling through what little contacts he had to get to Tina’s number.

He needed her.

He wouldn’t call for an ambulance, not when he wasn’t seriously wounded. Besides, it wasn’t exactly like he wanted to risk it anyway with the amount of questions that would be asked.

With his head still resting against his steering wheel, Gavin’s eyes slowly slipped back shut when the world around him began to tilt & turn violently, almost as though he were back to being drunk in that shitty bar, picking fights for the sake of it.

No alcohol this time. Just whiplash, headache, a bit of a scare & a whole lot of nothingness surrounding him.

His phone slipped out of his hand right as he clicked the call button, landing on the floor between his feet, his world fading out before he had the chance to hear the other line pick up.

_ “Gav?” _

_ Nothing. _

_ “Hello? Gavin..? Can you hear me..? Gavin, are you okay?” _

The freezing snow wasn’t exactly the most healthy place that Connor could have passed out in, but he supposed it could have been worse, he supposed all of the shit that had happened to him before was far worse than the chances of getting pneumonia.

So just like always, Connor decided he couldn’t complain, when what he had been through before was worse.

So just like always, Connor pushed himself up, brushed down his clothes & journeyed on.

That’s not to say it didn’t take everything he had.

Fighting against the urge to stay curled up & preserve what little body heat he had left, Connor pushed through.

It took every ounce of strength he had left, every fibre of his being pushed to its limit, simply so he could stand against the elements & fucking walk.

He stood on shaky legs, despite the way his knees wobbled & joints felt tight. 

He brushed the snow from his shoulders & from where it was clinging to the front of his sweater. He tugged said sweater back straight from where it had twisted around his body, then pulled his hood up.

Despite the way his clothes were soggy & clinging to his body uncomfortably, despite his shaking body, Connor stretched out his legs. He rubbed his gloved hands together to get some feeling back into them & slowly began to trek back across the field towards the main road.

He was grateful that the snow had come to a momentary halt & despite having no clue how long he had been passed out for, it couldn’t have been long seeing as it was still dark out.

The street lamps illuminated the main road where he found himself walking once more, hoping to the high heavens that someone would stop for him, just so he could get a lift back to the motel.

As his shoes crunched against snow that nobody had yet walked in, Connor watched his feet & the way they sank into the soft blanket of sparkling white. As though mother nature decided that because snow was so bitterly rough against those who were not prepared, it needed a little touch of sparkles, like tiny little diamonds just to distract you from how cruel it could be.

A lot like the rest of the world in that way. Like the pretty, buzzing neon motel signs & city skylines illuminated at night. The snow was just another thing added to the list of ‘Things that look pretty, but are out to make your life hell’. 

Perhaps Gavin’s name should be on that list. But so far, the man had done more good than bad in Connor’s books. Despite his chances of getting pneumonia being all Gavin’s fault, Connor was much too forgiving to a pair of pretty green eyes to hold it against him. Even if it killed him.

A pair of headlights came to a rolling halt right beside Connor, dragging him away from his sulking thoughts about his stranger that he so dearly missed, as though he had any right to.

Could you miss someone when they were the one who made you leave in the first place? Could you miss someone when they were kind of an asshole?

Without thinking twice, Connor got himself into the car that had stopped for him & thankfully this time, it wasn’t a cop.

Just a guy who felt bad for Connor, having practically seen his teeth chattering together.

He asked Connor where he needed to get to, to which he gave directions towards the motel. No questions were asked & the young man followed the directions given. 

Connor gave him $20 for gas money & as an apology for his dripping wet clothes dampening the stranger’s passenger seat.

He didn’t bother waiting around, lingering with small talk or anything like that. The moment he handed that money over, Connor was immediately out of the car. The door shut behind him & he was already jogging up towards the motel room that he & Gavin had occupied.

First, he knocked. When no answer came, he tried to open the door, only for it to be locked. With a quiet sigh, Connor then cupped his hands around his eyes to block out any glare from the shitty motel sign & peered into the window to see if he could see anything.

No such luck.

No Gavin. No nothing.

Nothing but a vacant motel room with no signs that he or Gavin were ever there.

His spare clothes were not sitting folded on the end of the bed he had occupied, Gavin’s wallet & phone were not on the nightstand, his backpack was gone. 

Gavin was gone.

“Of course.” Connor muttered to himself. Why he was surprised, he wasn’t so sure.

Just like before he had stumbled in front of Gavin’s car, Connor was alone. Walking away from a shitty little motel in dirty clothes, with absolutely no belongings, with only his shadow keeping him company.

Fucking bold of Gavin to accuse him of being a thief when he had so easily stolen away the sense of happiness that Connor was beginning to feel. 

Connor shoved his gloved hands into his sweater pockets as he stood there outside the motel window, freezing for a moment as he felt something in his pocket.

Oh.

Gavin’s necklace.

Slowly, Connor pulled it out of his pocket, inspecting the little metal disc that sat on the chain. Without knowing any story or history behind it, it didn’t look like anything too special. Just a little disc on a silver chain. 

Sort of looked like a spare part for something. 

Connor didn’t remember finding it, but then again, most of earlier from when he fell onto his knees was a complete blur, memories frosted over & frozen from the cold.

Still, he was adamant on not losing it before he could somehow get it back to Gavin, so Connor carefully put the necklace on, tucking it into his sweater where it would be hidden away & safe. Perhaps he had no right to wear it, but he would until it found its place back on its rightful owner.

Satisfied in that small victory, Connor decided that staring into the vacant room only served to stab one too many tiny daggers into his chest, so he turned on his heel & trudged away, slowly walking down the steps & leaving the shitty motel with its shitty buzzing sign behind him.

If only there was a way to leave his memories of his companion behind too, that way he wouldn’t miss him.

Connor read many, many books, one of which had a protagonist that he’d never forget. There was a line of dialogue that sort of floated around his mind the more he thought about the situation he found himself in.

Holden Caulfield once said, “Don’t ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.”

Connor was beginning to think he was right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here](https://open.spotify.com/track/22p9zOVc888wFeQJa2Q2qq) is the song that Gavin was singing in the car in his dream, if you were curious.
> 
> Writing these two apart is weirdly melancholy for me, they feel like total trainwrecks, but I still hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	6. Fear Of Falling Asleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there were any two people who could be split apart & still manage to find one another in a completely different state with no means of communication, it would be Gavin & Connor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little warning: The first section of this chapter delves a little into Connor's trauma - it is told through a dream sequence & I have tried to skirt around as much as I can to keep it as non-graphic as possible, but the implications of the scene are there & may be difficult for some to read. 
> 
> With that in mind, I hope that you enjoy this chapter.

Connor never slept particularly well. 

Ever since he got in Hank’s old car & drove away from Oregon without looking back, it was as though he had left his regular sleeping pattern behind too.

Now, when he caught a few hours, they were always plagued with the fractured memories of the night that put him on the run in the first place.

The dreams, if you could even call them that, would always start the same & they would always end the same.

They were just his past on a constant loop in his head, his worst night haunting him over & over. The truly worst bit, however, was always that no matter how hard his dream self tried to change what happened, tried to change it to have a new outcome, it would always end the same. 

It would always end with blood on his hands.

The dreams began with Connor walking into his then boyfriend’s apartment after a long day of working at the local art gallery. He would shrug off his jacket & hang it up beside the door, just like always. He kept his shoes on because usually when he came from work, his boyfriend was out on the balcony having a cigarette & Connor would sneak up to hug him from behind.

Not this time, though.

His boyfriend had a few of their friends over & they were drinking. They were getting drunk, they were being obnoxiously loud & extra douchey, just like always whenever alcohol found it’s way into their systems.

In every other rendition of the dream & the reality that it stemmed from, Connor would linger for a few moments near the door with his phone in his hand. He was supposed to go to have dinner at Hank’s with his brother. 

Looking back on it, he should have left whilst he still could.

Sometimes, Connor felt as though his nightmares were just there to mock him. Like they were a constant reminder that he had the chance to walk away, but never did.

He’d text Nines to say he wouldn’t be able to make it as he was too worn out from work, but that he would make up for it the next time. Nines would text back the same, ‘That’s fine. Catch up next week instead. Dad misses you xo’, just like he did on the actual night when Connor’s life changed for the worst.

Connor would smile & pocket his phone, would make his way through the apartment to the living room where everyone was & to begin with, things would be fine. Then his friends would suggest that they all play strip poker because it would just be some stupid fun, something dumb they could do, but Connor would refuse.

His boyfriend would then come over. He would be all overly affectionate, kissing at him while his hands roamed over the buttons on his shirt, undoing a few of them as he laughed. 

“C’mon, babe, show everyone here how pretty you are.” 

Connor would try to shrug it off. He would say maybe another time, that he needed to take a shower & was too tired. But his boyfriend wouldn’t listen. Even when Connor tried to grip his wrists to get him to stop, he didn’t listen.

He never fucking listened.

From there to the next, it’s mostly a blur, every dream the same, blurring out that little middle bit. The next thing Connor knew, from where he was being pinned to the floor on his front, he’d reach for that ugly vase with the ugly flowers in it & would smash it against his friend’s shoulder to get him to back the fuck off so Connor could get up.

He was aiming for his head. Shame he missed.

They didn’t stop. It just made the trio angrier. 

Connor just ended up pinned down all over again, on his back by his boyfriend now, the smashed vase pieces cutting into his back. Deep, jagged wounds that smeared blood across the floor. 

His boyfriend would try to pin his hands down above his head, kept telling him to just stop being so uptight & let loose, to play the fucking game with them because Connor owed it to him.

Fucking owed him. 

Because apparently his boyfriend being nice meant Connor owed him anything he wanted.

Things would escalate. Connor would keep trying to get his boyfriend to back the fuck off. He would tug at his wrists, but it would always fall on deaf ears.

At some point, in the middle of it all, when Connor had decided that fighting with his hands seemed ineffective, he managed to grab one of the thick shards from the broken vase, despite the way it cut into his hand & he didn’t think twice.

They were hurting him. They were laughing. They thought it was funny that he was crying, that he was begging for them to stop. They all thought it was funny that he was saying they were drunk & didn’t know what they were doing, that if they just stopped, they could all just forget about it.

He had so much anger bubbling up inside of him with every single sickening bit of laughter he heard.

It was self defense.

_ It was self defense, it was self defense, it was- _

Connor would ram that shard of the vase right through his boyfriend’s neck. 

He would watch as anger, then horror, then anger again flashed through those eyes he had fallen so quickly for. He would watch as the man he loved went to say something after he let out a garbled sound of pain, his hands still wrapped firmly around Connor’s neck, only for him to choke on his own blood & collapse on top of him.

The men he thought were his friends would be momentarily stunned in horror that Connor had killed his own boyfriend right in front of their faces, the alcohol stunting their reaction time which always gave him that slither of time to get free.

With his adrenaline pumping, Connor was always able to actually do something despite the agony coursing through his body. He yanked his leg free from where it was being pinned down & booted one of the men that was holding him down in the face.

He would then yank himself up with a soft cry of pain, he would fix his clothes as quickly as he could despite the agony raking through his body & all but fell against the counter that divided the lounge from the little kitchen. 

He would hear the two friends shout between each other & despite the ringing in his ears, always heard the shuffling of one of them coming towards him. 

He would take a deep breath, swallow down the bile that was rising in his throat & as the man grabbed his hair to yank him back, Connor’s survival instincts would always kick in. They blended in with his fear, but it didn’t matter, his hand flew out to swipe one of the kitchen knives out of the wooden block.

As he was spun around, Connor would use the momentum to drive the knife right into the man’s stomach. Then he’d shove his so called friend to the ground beside the body of the man he was so sure he could have married one day.

How goddamn naive.

“P-Please stop!” Connor would cry at the only man that was left standing. The knife he had grabbed was still stuck in his friend’s stomach & Connor was defenseless. He was dizzy & on the verge of passing the fuck out.

But, despite his better judgement, Connor always tried to reason with his ‘friend’. Told him that because he wasn't the one who did anything, despite not trying to help as his boyfriend attempted to do what he did, that he could walk away.

That they could go to the police, go to Hank, explain what happened. That they could explain it was self defense.

Nobody else had to get hurt.

Connor didn’t want to hurt them. 

It was self defence.

But the man would always charge at him anyway. He would shout profanities & angry sentences that still to this day, Connor couldn’t quite remember. So he fought back.

Well, he did vaguely remember him shouting about how Connor had killed his two best friends. Shouting about how he had to pay for that because they were just messing around & it was a joke. Yeah, a fucking joke. But the rest was a blur.

The little energy he had left, Connor would always fight with it all. Anything to stop the man from wrapping his hands around his throat & squeezing until the world faded out.

Connor didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to leave behind Nines & Hank & Sumo without them knowing exactly what had happened first. He didn’t want to leave. 

He didn’t want any of this to happen.

They could have walked away.

If his boyfriend would have just stopped, Connor would have let them all get away with it.

But he didn’t stop & his friends didn’t try to stop him either.

As they fought, punches being thrown & hands scrabbling for his neck, Connor got lucky.

Yeah, fucking lucky. 

The man would slip. Slip on Connor’s blood that had been smeared across the floor from the gashes in his back & he fell backwards, head hitting off of the corner of the counter; being a blunt & hard enough blow that it killed him on the spot.

With three bodies surrounding him, blood on his shaking hands, Connor would snap back awake.

Every. Single. Time.

But the dreams never lasted long enough to show what happened afterwards.

As his whole body shook to its very core, Connor threw up the contents of his stomach into the sink until there was nothing but dry heaving left.

Once that was out of his system, he ran on fumes, but didn’t stop. He  _ couldn’t _ fucking stop. 

Despite the agony he was in, Connor managed to slip his blood drenched shirt off the rest of the way & shoddily wrap bandages around his lower torso to keep his back from bleeding all over him any longer.

Long, jagged, angry wounds from where he had been pressed up against the smashed vase pieces had cut so deep that Connor was honestly surprised he hadn’t bled out. That he hadn’t collapsed & ended up being another body beside the other three.

After pulling on a new shirt & having a breakdown in the bathroom, he got to cleaning.

Momentarily numb to everything, when no more tears came out, Connor just… cleaned. 

Everything. 

Hours ticked by. With gloves on, Connor cleaned up all of the blood. He cleaned up the smashed vase, the knife. He even thought to put the knife, once immaculately clean, back in its rightful place in the kitchen, not in a man’s torso.

He left the bodies where they were, but was sure that everything else was spotless. Thanks to his father being a police lieutenant, Connor had an idea on just how far he had to go to be sure there was no evidence of him left behind.

What little clothes he kept there, he packed up. He dusted down anywhere that he may have touched & essentially spring cleaned the whole fucking apartment. 

When he left, he bolted up the door & burned all of the evidence that had any blood on it. He disposed of the smashed vase pieces in a place they wouldn’t be found & despite having fresh blood splattered across his shirt from when cleaning got a little messy, Connor made his way back to Hank’s.

After another breakdown right outside the front door, he finally limped inside & almost collapsed on his way in.

Nines asked him if it was worth it. As though he knew exactly what Connor had done before he had told him. But then again, Nines knew how violent Connor’s ex could get when drunk or just downright angry.

After explaining everything, he sat backwards on one of the dining table chairs. Sat with his arms crossed over it & his head resting against them, silently sobbing as both Hank & Nines worked together to stitch up his back. Once they had cleaned & bandaged him up; Connor left.

That was the last time he ever saw Hank & Nines. That was the last time he ever saw Oregon.

He hadn’t talked to them since.

Right as he looked down at his bloodied hands in the dream, Connor jolted awake.

“Fuck!” 

_ Fuck. You’re not back there, Con, just another nightmare. You’re not back there. They’re gone. Nobody knows it was you. You’re safe. _

Or, as safe as someone sitting alone in damp clothes trapped out in a snowstorm could be.

Connor’s chest was rising & falling way too fucking quickly. His gloved hands came up to tug at the neckline of his sweater, yanking it from his neck as he heaved in heavy, rugged breaths, trying to calm himself down.

No hands around his neck.

No blood on his hands. Well, not visibly, anyway.

Calming himself down by focusing on something else, Connor looked around as he blinked away the sleepy fuzziness that was in his vision. He drew in deep, slow breaths & swallowed the lump in his throat, eyes coming to focus on a little neon sign in the window of the store opposite the bus stop he was sat in. 

Despite the store being closed & sun having not yet risen, that little sign stayed on, illuminating the window with little pinks & blues. 

_ ‘Cheap repairs here!’ _

Perhaps they could repair him too.

Pick apart his brain, rifle through all of the neurons to get to the source of his problems so they could dispose of them accordingly.

That thought alone had Connor snickering to himself bitterly with a shake of his head.

Can’t fix something when so many of the pieces were missing.

He had been sitting in this bus stop for a few hours now. He had fallen asleep for barely two hours, only to be jolted awake by his past taunting him in his own head. There were no cars for him to hitch a ride from & everywhere else was too fucking snowy. 

So with no other choice, Connor bunkered down in his still-damp sweater in one of the seats of the enclosed bus stop, deciding that this was going to be the best spot if he was going to get any respite from the elements.

Hours passed by & Connor stayed bundled up in the corner of the seat, trying to preserve as much body heat as he could so he wouldn’t fucking freeze to death. He drifted in & out of varying stages of awake & never quite fully asleep. 

It was only when the sun rose that Connor decided to get walking again. Where? He had no clue. He was just going to walk until he found a store that was open so he could grab some much needed necessities. 

So that’s exactly what happened.

Grateful that the sun was finally melting away some of the snow at the same time as drying off his clothes, Connor first found a thrift store that was just opening. He brought fresh jeans, a plain grey tshirt & a new jacket. It was a fucking nice jacket too.

It was a brown, leather pilot jacket with a grubby, cream coloured fleece lining around the neck & as the padded inner layer too. It had little patches on either side of the upper sleeves & some on the back. Over the left breast above the little pocket there, it had a name tag patch that said ‘Maverick’.

Huh. Sounded vaguely familiar, from an old movie or something.

What a goddamn gem of a find.

After paying for the clothes & for a cheap backpack while he was there, the lady who owned the store graciously allowed Connor to get changed in the back room. He made quick work of stuffing his old clothes into the bag & the moment he pulled on that jacket, it’s cosy, fleecy interior hugging him so perfectly, a little smile graced Connor’s features.

Only for a blink & you miss it moment, but he felt genuinely good about himself. It fit perfectly.

Connor folded up the gloves that the kind stranger had given him & tucked them into his pocket until he got outside. For a moment, he looked down to his hand & the phone number that was still written there in Sharpie-marker pen. The last few numbers were smudged now, though.

He supposed he couldn’t call her even if he wanted to. Unless he was willingly going to spend way too long trying to remember the last three digits of her number. Perhaps he could, if he tried hard enough. After all, it wasn’t exactly as though he had anywhere better to be & had an awful lot of time to kill.

He could sit there & go through every possible combination that the last three digits could be.

He could, he probably should. He wouldn’t.

After double checking to be sure Gavin’s necklace was still around his neck, he slung the backpack over his shoulder & thanked the store clerk as he fixed his hair in the window reflection. From there, he headed out to find the cheapest food possible to keep him going for the rest of the day.

He settled on grabbing a protein bar & a bottle of water from a corner store. It’d do. Just as long as he still had most of his ‘rainy day fund’. 

How the fuck was $100 going to get him from South Dakota to Michigan when he had no asshole of a companion who was willing to drive him across state lines?

That thought always followed up with much, much darker ones.

Connor had very nearly slipped up. No, not just on the melting ice that was beneath his feet as he walked down the path.

After he woke up in the snow, freezing & alone, after realising Gavin had been long gone, Connor wanted an escape. An escape similar to what Hank found in the bottom of a bottle of booze. An escape similar to what Nines found in the pills laying in those little orange bottles he kept in his bathroom cabinet.

Connor was just as bad. But he tried to get better. He really did try.

He couldn’t help but feel as though he was being tested. Being pushed to his very limits to see whether he would use the last of his money on his preferred poison until the world comfortably faded out or not.

Cruel fuckin’ world.

He didn’t slip up. Even if the thought did cross his mind. But he was stronger. He had to be stronger. Just until he got Gavin’s necklace to him.

But that was just it, wasn’t it? He was using something that was less of a possibility & more of an impossibility just to latch onto, so it was easier to say no.

_ I will not give in today, I still have someone relying on me to find them. _

Right. As though Gavin had even given him a second thought since kicking him to the curb.

_ Don’t think about Connor, don’t think about Connor, don’t think ab- Shit. _

“-Up! Wake up, man!” An unfamiliar voice filled Gavin’s ears which was quickly followed up by a gentle shove to his shoulder that sent sharp pains up through his collarbone. 

_ Fuckin’ shit. Ouch. _

Gavin’s eyes snapped open with a quiet, pained groan as he flinched back into reality from where he was lost somewhere in his own head. He peered up to the man who had nudged him with an irritated scowl sitting on his features.

It took a long few moments for Gavin to gain his bearings & figure out exactly where he was & why a stranger was standing in front of him. 

Oh. Right.

Gavin was sitting on the ground , leaning his back against the side of his car. His knees were pulled up to his chest, his arms resting on them & his head was resting back against the cool metal of the car door. 

For a little while, he had been staring up at the sky as it turned from night to day, then he must have drifted off again.

He had passed out at the wheel after crashing his car & never did quite get his call through to Tina. At some point, he must have woken up & moved to the outside of his car; although he didn’t remember when or why. All he knew was that he was sitting on the ground, surprised that his car hadn’t exploded & ate him up whole like they did in the movies.

“No point in mugging me, man, I ain’t got shit for you to steal, so fuck off.” Gavin grumbled out in a rough & raspy voice, raising one hand to run through his hair with a slight wince at just how sensitive his head was.

“Why would I wake you up if I wanted to mug you?” The stranger laughed ever so softly with a shake of his head. As he crouched down, sitting on his haunches, he asked ever so softly, “Are you okay?”

What kind of fuckin’ question was that? Did he look fucking okay?!

So… he wasn’t getting mugged?

“Absolutely fuckin' peachy, my man.” Gavin muttered, eyes still glaring at the stranger opposite. But as they glared, his eyes took in all that they could. 

The man had deep brown eyes & black hair beginning to grow through what was once a buzz cut. He looked way too fucking kind to be talking to someone like Gavin.

“Do you need-”

“No.” Gavin spat before the stranger could even finish his sentence. 

He didn’t need anything. No hospital, no help, nothing.

The man said nothing, instead he simply stood himself back up & held out his hand for Gavin to take, so he could help himself up. “My name’s Josh.” He offered, seemingly completely unaffected by Gavin’s stand-offish behaviour. 

With an irritated sigh, Gavin grabbed the hand that was being held out to him, having barely any time to try to pull himself up before he was already being hoisted to his feet by Josh. Gavin didn’t offer his name in return, he simply brushed down his jacket with shaky hands & made a grunt that was somewhat reminiscent of a thank you.

He slowly turned around to inspect just how damaged his car was & whether there was any chance of saving it.

“Well… Fuck.” Gavin spat, but his ‘fuck’ sounded more like ‘phck.’ That often happened when he was more irritated than he was letting on. Well, at least the damage that he blamed Connor for didn’t look so bad anymore, right? No? Fuck.

“I can call a tow?” Josh asked as he leaned against the side of his car & Gavin could quite literally feel his eyes watching his every move.

Momentarily ignoring the man, Gavin went to walk but froze up at the ache in his lower spine & hips, it taking yet another moment from him to remember what the fuck had happened to cause  _ that  _ ache. He winced to himself as he recounted the events at the bar, then limped around to the other side of his car. 

He heard the man ask him if he was sure he didn’t need him to call for an ambulance, to which Gavin quickly shot him an irritated glare, shaking his head before he muttered out, “I’m fine.”

He reached in to grab his knitted blanket that Connor had borrowed & folded it up, tucking it around the strap of his bag before slinging said bag over his shoulder. Then, he limped back around to the driver’s side to search for his phone after patting down his pockets & realising it was gone.

A groan escaped his lips as he reached & swiped it from the floor, Gavin holding it up to show the stranger that he had found it before checking the bazillion fucking texts that were piling up across the cracked screen.

There were six missed calls in between the texts.

_ ‘Gav?’ _

_ ‘Was that a buttdial? Everything okay?’ _

_ ‘If that was a buttdial, I fucking hate u. If it wasn’t, pls don’t be dead’ _

_ ‘If ur kidnapped, just piss them off until they let u free’ _

_ ‘Gavin I’m serious, call me back when u can so I can stop worrying’ _

_ ‘I’m coming to find u, asshole. Turn on ur location!’ _

_ ‘Please don’t be dead’ _

The tiniest of sad smiles tugged at the corners of Gavin’s lips as he read through all of the text messages from the only person who gave a shit about him enough to call him an asshole, even when he could be dead.

Limping back around to stand beside Josh, leaning against the car, he quickly typed out a lie, another one that was just as easy as the others.

_ ‘Fuckin buttdial. Was sleeping - not dead’ _

_ ‘Yet’ _

He stared at the screen. Stared at his double text for a little too long as guilt slowly crept up along his insides, wrapping its ugly self around his muscles & seeping into his bones, so he added one more text for good measure.

_ ‘Im ok, miss u tho, will call u tonight. Promise xo’ _

As Gavin stood there, spending far too much time staring down at the little ‘delivered’ sign that was beneath his text bubble, he couldn’t help but be angry that he couldn’t text Connor while he was at it.

He wasn’t even sure if the pretty eyed stranger had a phone or not, he doubted it, considering it appeared he had absolutely no belongings whatsoever. But it made him angry that he couldn’t text Connor & just fucking apologise. 

What would he even say?

It’d probably end up being something like,  _ ‘Hey its Gav. Sorry I said all that shit I didn’t mean, pls come back, I don’t like being alone even tho I act like I do & I miss u, not that I'd say it to ur face. Whatever. Hate u bye x’ _

Then he’d delete the whole thing. Type it out four more times, only to settle on just texting his location & waiting to see if Connor would show up or not. Perhaps with a  _ ‘I hope ur still alive’ _ tacked on the end.

But Connor didn’t have a phone, so Gavin didn’t text.

Connor wasn’t there, so Gavin shoved away every thought of him.

“For a second, I thought you were dead.” The stranger piped up with & he said it so bluntly that it caught Gavin off guard, causing him to let out a hollow, breathy laugh that was quickly followed up by a shake of his head.

“I thought so too. World isn’t doin’ me any favours just yet, though.” His tone implied his words were nothing more than a self deprecating, tasteless joke, but there was a truth that sat in them nonetheless. Thankfully, the stranger didn’t seem to notice. Either that or he did, but chose to not say anything.

For that, Gavin was grateful.

A few moments of silence passed them by, mostly consisting of Gavin observing the stranger’s car that was parked on the side of the road just opposite them. It had a little bumper sticker slapped across the side for a university somewhere in Iowa. Huh. Student or professor?

If Tina were here, they’d spend their time making up dumb stories about what this stranger really did for a living. There was no fun in doing that alone, it was just sad.

“My friend is a mechanic not too far from here. She’s supposed to have the day off today, but she owes me a favour so I could call her?” The kind stranger asked, deep brown eyes studying Gavin as he waited for an answer.

Shit, why the fuck was this guy so patient with him?

Gavin locked his phone & as the screen turned into a little black mirror, he could see his reflection. Fucking hell, why the fuck was this guy so patient with him? Why did he stop, when Gavin looked like that?!

There was a fresh wound on his head, nothing too severe, but there was a dried blood track going from somewhere in his hairline to down across the left side of his face. He had fresh bruising forming along his temple, which matched perfectly with the black eye he was sporting that also crept along the bridge of his nose.

Holy shit.

At least he could blame all of the wounds on the fact that he wrapped the front of his car around a goddamn tree & not because he picked fights for the sake of feeling the violence course through him, the pain of a punch momentarily taking away the pain of reality.

“Y’think it’s worth saving?” Gavin finally asked in a voice that was perhaps a little too rough, but for good measure, he coughed to clear his throat before adding, “Kinda need this car.”

Josh proceeded to explain that perhaps Gavin was in luck, because minus the fact it wasn’t so lucky to crash his car, at least his front window was still intact & it appeared that most of the damage was to the frame. If it had smoked previously, then it was likely either a busted radiator or just a leaky valve cover which had oil dripping onto the still-hot engine. 

So in layman's terms, no explosions. Just oil sizzling on a hot engine, but since the engine had cooled down, there was no more steam that pulled off the illusion that it was smoke.

Gavin was fine, his car would be fine too, if he was willing to use what little money he had to pay for all of the repairs. He did still have some savings, but he wasn’t sure if that’d even cover what it’d take to fix up the frame & change the two front tires.

After agreeing to Josh calling a mechanic, the man offered Gavin to sit in his car while they waited. Gavin said he just needed to grab a few bits from his own & then he’d be over.

By that, he meant he had to get the gun from his glove compartment & hide it in the bottom of his bag as quickly & secretively as he could.

Once that was out of the way, Gavin ended up sitting in the passenger side of Josh’s car, just so he could be out of the cold as the stranger called his mechanic friend, who Gavin quickly learned was called North.

From what he could hear, North sounded a little more than just a little disgruntled over the fact Josh was calling in his favour on her day off.

Still, Josh had managed to convince her to help him out & once he was finally off of the phone, he told Gavin that the tow could take a couple of hours due to the weather conditions, which left him adding on, “So, what are we gonna do to kill a few hours while we wait?”

“We?”

“I’m not about to leave you alone in the snow in a broken down car, man. I mean, unless that’s what you want? We could at least get some breakfast, maybe get you some painkillers? Those bruises look like they hurt.”

Gavin wasn’t entirely sure what it was that possessed him to not tell the man to fuck off & leave him alone. Perhaps it was the promise of a diner breakfast, which meant blueberry pancakes, or perhaps it was the fact this guy was actually making an active effort to help Gavin out.

After all, the quicker Gavin got his car fixed, the quicker he could actually get back on the road.

Maybe Connor was having a positive effect on him & he hadn’t even realised. That or he just really wanted those fucking pancakes.

So he bit his tongue before he could snap out a douchey comment & the stranger drove him to a little diner that wasn’t _ too  _ far from his car. Shit, the guy could have kidnapped him, or killed him right then & there, but he didn’t & quite honestly, Gavin was genuinely surprised.

He kind of, sort of really did think he was going to get murdered. But again, the world wasn’t exactly doing him any favours in that regard.

Gavin mostly sat in silence in the diner, eating most of his food, downing most of his coffee & playing with a few of the blueberries with his fork as he listened to Josh. Listened as Josh told him a little about the town they were in & a little about Iowa after Gavin had said he had never been here before & was supposed to just be passing through.

Sometimes, he listened. Other times, he zoned out completely.

Head resting on his hand, elbow propped on the table, eyes staring down at the blueberries, he couldn’t help but wish Connor was here to share the pancakes with him. To play dumb games with to pass the time, to have ever so short conversations, but felt more real than the ones he was being roped into now.

Everyone else talked too much. Josh talked too much. Telling Gavin about all of the best bits of the state as though Gavin was ever going to visit them, telling him about the university he worked at as though he cared & he even talking about the fucking snowstorm. 

When the tables of the conversation were flipped & the man asked Gavin about himself & why he was on the road, only then did he draw his eyes away from his blueberries to glare at the man opposite.

“Visiting someone.” He settled on. He had told Connor a completely different story & had ultimately decided that anyone else he met along the way would always get a different story.

“Do they know you’re going to be late?”

“No.”

“Do they even know you’re coming?”

“No.”

“You’re not very talkative.”

“I know.”

Perhaps he sounded like an asshole, especially since the guy offered to pay for his breakfast & for the tow truck too, just to save Gavin some extra money that’d go towards his repairs, but wasn’t that just who he was?

A rude asshole who didn’t take kindly to people he didn’t really know trying to make conversation? An asshole who hated people being nice to him, because he felt as though he didn’t deserve that sort of kindness.

He didn’t deserve Josh pulling in favours & paying for his breakfast. He didn’t deserve the man making conversation & brushing off Gavin’s brusque personality as though it was no big deal. He was an asshole & deserved to be treated that way, so why the fuck did he attract good people? Tina, Connor & now Josh too.

Either Josh had dealt with people who were somehow even more closed off than Gavin was, or he was too fucking positive to allow any of Gavin’s negativity to affect him. 

Whatever. It didn’t sway Gavin to be any less brusque.

They spent a little while longer just quietly sitting in the diner as Gavin gulped down another cup of coffee, answering the rest of Josh’s questions with ‘yes’, ‘no’, or a grunt that was somewhat reminiscent of an answer.

The man didn’t seem to mind.

Not too long later, the duo headed out of the diner & back to Josh’s car. From there, they drove towards the mechanic’s shop that Josh had mentioned earlier after Gavin said he didn’t mind just leaving his car on the side of the road until the tow came to pick it up. After all, it wasn’t like he had any valuables that could be stolen. 

Almost everything that meant anything to him was packed safely into his bag. 

The only thing missing was Connor.

_ You really need to get that guy out of your head, Gav, he ain’t fucking coming back. Just accept it. The one guy who never questioned you, the one guy who you actually clicked with, had a spark with & you fucking push him away. _

_ Fucking moron. _

The moment Gavin & Josh headed into the mechanic’s garage, Gavin still trying to stifle his limp, he was hit with the strong smell of petrol & burnt rubber. It was somewhat comforting. That raw, potent smell of cars & their workings.

Not that he got to appreciate the smell, or the vintage number plates that were neatly hanging one of the walls as he was immediately greeted with a woman getting right up in his face, inspecting the bruising that littered his skin.

“Holy shit. What, you get in a fight with your fuckin’ car?! Or is this the part where you tell me ‘you shoulda seen the other guy’? Shit, if the other guy is your car & you look like, well,  _ this, _ I’m dreading to see what the car looks like.” 

The lady laughed & took a step back as Josh fixed her with a warning glare & once she wasn’t crowding in Gavin’s personal space, he could actually take in her features.

Long, strawberry blonde hair in a plait sitting over one of her shoulders with a dirty, red cap sitting backwards on her head. Deep brown eyes studied him & if it were not for her chipper voice, Gavin would have sworn she was pissed at him just by her resting bitch face.

She was in a cropped shirt with grease covered overalls over the top, hanging loose off of her other shoulder, but Gavin could still see the little name patch that said ‘North’.

“North!” Josh snapped, breaking Gavin from his thoughts. “Can’t you see that he’s been through hell?”

“Well, why ain’t he in a hospital then?”

“I’m right here.” Gavin muttered with an eyeroll, to which North just laughed & stuck out her hand for him to shake. “Well, y’already know the name, but ah what the hell. I’m North, owner of Jericho Mechanics. We’ll get your car fixed up in no time. Once it’s here, of course.”

Gavin shook her hand as he mustered up the most polite looking smile he could without it looking too sarcastic, which was considerably difficult given his, well, whole fucking face.

Once the introductions were out of the way, North showed Gavin towards a couch that was near the back wall, telling him that he was more than welcome to rest there until his car was sorted given the weather & his condition.

She explained that anyone else could royally fuck off, but since Josh had already vouched for Gavin, she trusted him enough to let him crash there for a little while. 

Hell, she even supplied him with a pack of painkillers & a bottle of water, to which Gavin was so fucking grateful, because fuck if his head wasn’t pounding & that discomfort was still sitting there in his hips.

Josh & North left Gavin to his own devices, lying there on his back on the tired old couch, his bag at his feet as he waited for those painkillers to kick in. 

He turned his phone over in his hands, nervously nibbling at his lip as he contemplated whether he should phone Tina or not. Tell her that he was okay, that yep, just like the texts suggested, he wasn’t dead. Tell her that he was taking a pitstop for a few days, which wasn’t exactly a lie. 

But the more he thought about it, the more he thought about the inevitable questions she would ask & the inevitable lies that he would have to tell. He tucked his phone back into his pocket & scrubbed his hands over his face instead.

His eyes were growing heavy with each passing minute, but there was no falling asleep. Just lying there, draping one arm over his face to shield his eyes from the light, listening to his own heartbeat heavily pounding at a steady rate in his ears.

He so badly wanted to drift off to sleep for a few hours, but with the pain that hadn’t yet subsided, with not having Tina’s voice there or Connor’s company to help lull him off to sleep, he just lay there, far too thoroughly aware on just how much the world wanted to kick his fucking ass.

Then again, he supposed he had it coming.   


Car hopping was surprisingly boring & relatively terrifying when every single person who stopped looked as though they only ever had the worst intentions in mind.

Sure, there was the phrase ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’, but that was exceptionally difficult when all Connor had ever known was men treating him like fucking garbage.

He never spent more than thirty minutes in a car at any one time. The only exception for that was when he was crossing the state border into Iowa & that was purely because he had no other choice. It wasn’t like he could just hop out of the car on the fucking freeway & either trek the rest of the way, or flag someone down.

But the moment they crossed that border? Connor had never so quickly demanded for the car to be stopped & for once, it wasn't because of his own paranoia getting the better of him.

“Stop! Wait, fucking stop, stop a sec!” Connor babbled out, already un-clipping his seat belt & the car hadn’t even slowed yet.

“Alright, damn!” The driver, whose name Connor hadn’t even bothered to learn, slammed on the brakes, the car skidding ever so slightly, but coming to a relatively safe halt considering the icy conditions the roads were in. Thankfully, the sun had somewhat melted away the most dangerous ice sheets.

The older man’s thick, southern accent was so fucking clear in his rough voice as he spoke with actual concern, “Y’alright, Kiddo?”

Connor didn’t even have the chance to respond, he was already throwing a crumpled up ten dollar bill at the man at the same time as stumbling out of the car, being sure to catch his footing before he faceplanted the ground.

Once steady, he was like a man on a mission. Despite the way his legs were stiff from both too much walking & the cold, Connor marched his way back up the road they had just driven down, jogging the rest of the way towards a car that was crashed against a tree. 

There was a tow truck just behind the car, a man just hopping out to sort out the winch, ready to tug the car away from its current resting place.

_ That’s Gavin’s fucking car. _ Connor thought to himself & to solidify his theory, he headed around to the front of the car, leaning over to smooth his hand across the crumpled hood, delicate fingers tracing over the original scuffs along the very edge of the hood that tapered off along the bumper. Damage that had been caused when Gavin had swerved out of the way of Connor when they had first met.

Shit. Shit, shit.

Well, either it was very good news, or very, very bad news that Gavin wasn’t in the driver’s seat.

The good news was that meant Gavin hadn’t managed to fucking kill himself by always driving with only one hand on the wheel. Bad news was, well, where the fuck was he?

Just to be sure he wasn’t completely going insane & somehow tricking himself with wishful thinking, Connor headed around the back of the car, peering around to see the number plate. 

Yep.

That was Gavin’s number plate. He had memorised it while stretching his legs on one of the times he waited by the car while Gavin went into a local store to grab snacks. 

He wasn’t entirely sure why he chose to memorise it, perhaps it was habit, just like how he had Nines’ phone number memorised. For his own peace of mind.

But he remembered those numbers better than he remembered the way his own fucking face currently looked in the mirror. This was Gavin’s car. It was just missing its rightful owner.

Connor looked back down the road to the man who had given him a lift across the state border, who was still parked waiting in case Connor needed to use him for another lift somewhere.

Connor just nodded as thanks & raised a hand, waving it once to indicate that the man could leave before drawing his attention back to the driver of the tow truck who was eyeing him curiously, having not yet bothered to ask Connor what the fuck it was that he was doing.

“Excuse me? Is the owner of this car coming back?” Connor asked, clearing his throat as his voice came out a little too shaky with nerves that he was struggling to hide. “He’s my friend, y’see, a-and I think he might be hurt.”

After an inspection of the car, the driver’s mismatched eyes flickered back to Connor as he shook his head. “Not that I know of. I was told to bring this car back to Jericho’s.”

“Jericho’s?” Connor echoed, brows pinching together in confusion, eyes flickering to the car again & for a moment, he caught himself in the reflection of the window. Yet again, it had him wondering how anyone stopped for him at all.

Sure, the clean clothes helped & he had fixed his hair a few times to make it look as presentable as it could considering it was growing out a little too much for his liking, but his skin was still littered with fading bruises. They painted his once pale complexion in varying hues of reds & yellows with the hint of green. It was rather unappealing.

“The mechanic not too far from here? Boss’ orders were to bring the car back there, not to the scrap heap.” 

Connor couldn’t fucking help the butterflies that fluttered throughout his stomach at the sense of hope that washed over him. If the car was being repaired, then that meant Gavin must be there too. He was okay.

_ Gavin was okay. _

One of Connor’s hands came up to subconsciously play with the little disc that sat on the chain around his neck, the tiniest of hopeful smiles curling at the corners of his lips.

He wasn’t out of the water just yet, there were still so many possibilities that involved Gavin not being there, but Connor needed this one. He needed to rely on his hopeful mind that he was so sure had died a long, long time ago.

He needed to believe that the world was throwing him a lifeline, that his companion was not too far from here. Perhaps he’d be a little banged up, if his car was anything to go by & the thought of Gavin being hurt had a sick wave drowning those hopeful butterflies, but Connor pushed it all down.

If any two people were able to be split apart & find one another in another fucking state, Connor had to believe that somehow, it’d be him & Gavin. Their souls were already just too tangled up in each other for him to believe anything else.

Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.

After drawing in a few slow, deep breaths to keep himself from being overtaken by nerves, he finally managed to find his voice again. “Mind if I hitch a ride with you? My friend, he’s-”

“Sure thing.”

The man with the mismatched eyes offered Connor a smile & a half shrug before opening the passenger side door of his truck. Connor nodded in thanks, but before hopping into the truck, he had to quickly check one thing first.

He opened the passenger side of Gavin’s car, leaning in to check the glove compartment, only opening it a fraction of an inch to check to see if Gavin’s pistol had been left unattended or not. If it had, then he would have tucked it into the back of his jeans, hiding it with his jacket. 

Anything to keep Gavin safe. 

But the pistol wasn’t there & Connor just hoped that Gavin had it on his person, having already thought ahead of time.

Shit, he really was relying on a whole lot of hopes right about now.

Nevertheless, he shut the door as gently as he could before climbing up into the passenger side of the truck, the driver already in the driver’s seat, ready to get on with his job. Once Connor was seated & buckled in, the man softly spoke up, “The name’s Markus, by the way. If your friend called Jericho’s, then he’s likely already waitin’ there, unless he’s in a hospital?”

An ever so soft, hollow laugh left Connor at that comment, it getting lost to the loud sound of the truck’s engine. With a shake of his head, Connor murmured, “Yeah, no, I don’t think he’d go to a hospital even if he was dying.”

“Shit, really? Better hope he ain’t dying then, huh?”

“Better hope not.” He repeated, wondering if everyone in Iowa was going to be this fucking blunt. If they were, he had already decided that he preferred this state over any of the others they had passed through thus far.

He preferred people being blunt with him rather than false pretenses, perhaps that was why he fell so quickly for that asshole of a man who had nearly hit him with his car.

The conversation fell quiet & for the rest of the drive, the only sounds that were made were the rev of the engine & the sound of Markus quietly humming along to the ever so quiet radio.

Connor lost track of time as he watched the buildings, road signs & trees pass them by. His cheek was resting against his hand, his elbow propped up against the door; but the moment he saw the neon red arrow that was pointing to a rather large garage, he perked right up again.

The sign that had the name of the mechanic was still dimmed, causing his brows to furrow together slightly, nerves bubbling back up again.

What if there was no Gavin? What if this was all just some cruel trick to get Connor alone in a place where nobody could hear him yell for help?

What if-

Too many what ifs. 

All he could do was draw in a deep breath, swallow down the anxiety & grit his teeth together as it twisted into a nausea that sat in the pit of his stomach. Perhaps the empty stomach didn’t particularly help.

He couldn’t run away. He had to see this through. Gavin could be on the other side of that garage door & the only way to find out for sure would be to push aside his past trauma, swallow down the bitter taste of fear creeping up his throat & push on.

So that’s exactly what he did.

As the truck came to a halt, Markus beeped the horn twice & Connor was quick to get himself out of the truck, taking a moment to lean his back against the cool metal of the passenger door & draw in a few deep breaths.

It helped to keep him level headed. To keep those angry waves of nerves at bay.

The garage door raised, a bright white-yellow hue bleeding out from the overhanging lights that illuminated the whole garage. 

Wasting absolutely no time at all, Connor pushed himself up from where he was leaning & before his mind had fully caught up with him, his feet were already walking into the garage.

Eyes surveyed the spacious area & right as they were about to flicker to the strawberry-blonde haired woman who was heading in his direction, to introduce himself & explain who he was looking for, his whole body locked up. He was frozen on the spot as a rough, ever irritated but oh so familiar sounding voice filled his ears. It was so quiet, if anyone had dared to speak at the same time, Connor would have missed it completely.

“C-Con?”

Connor’s eyes snapped to across the room.

_ Gavin. _

He really was okay.

Or at least, as okay as a man like Gavin could be.

Relief washed over Connor’s whole body like a welcoming cool breeze after nothing but incessant heat, but it was quickly replaced with worry as Gavin properly sat himself up on the couch he was just lying on, the bright lights illuminating his damaged features.

Always damaged. Always bruised. Always hurt. He wondered if the outside matched his interior in that regard.

There was fresh bruising all along his face, purples & blues, his nose looking like it had been broken for the hundredth time in a row, which was saying something considering his nose had always looked sort of busted.

A stinging feeling prickled at the corners of Connor’s eyes & he blinked a few times to try to get the sensation to subside. Not that it worked.

If anything, as Gavin stood himself up with a hiss of a pain & a slight limp, the feeling only amplified. He was holding one of his arms close to his torso, it clearly being too painful for him to stretch it out properly or hold it at his side.

A crooked smile tugged at the corner of Gavin’s lips. It was there for barely a second before it faded & his brows pinched together, as though his body decided he had to suffer for showing the slightest sign of happiness.

Connor wasn’t entirely sure if he could hold back the tears from slipping down his cheeks.

His goddamn feet started moving before his mind had caught up with them & before he could even introduce himself, say hello or anything else of that calibre, Connor found himself marching right the way up to Gavin.

Without thinking twice, Connor closed the space between them. How he could momentarily forget that Gavin had been in a car accident when it was written all over his body was rather stupid, but Connor couldn’t help himself as he got closer. He flung both of his arms around the man’s neck.

He tugged Gavin right against his chest & squeezed as tight as he fucking could.

He felt the way Gavin tensed up at the touch, not just from the obvious pain in his body, but the reservedness that came along with a man like Gavin. He could feel the momentary hesitation in the man, but would never hold it against him. 

Two arms, tentatively at first, made their way up & wrapped themselves around Connor’s middle. Not a moment later & Connor felt those rough hands curl into the fabric of the back of his jacket, gripping it tightly as Gavin buried his face against Connor’s shoulder.

Connor held him as though he almost expected Gavin to just vanish right then & there if he let go. He held him as though he almost expected Gavin to slip right through his arms if he let go. 

He held him as though nothing else in that moment mattered, as though nothing on this planet was as imperative as him holding this goddamn asshole of a man right against his chest like his fucking life depended on it.

Connor could let go. He should let go.

He wouldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for any comments or kudos, they are much appreciated!<3


	7. Particles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wanted to lay open all that he was across a table, gesture to it & say, ‘This is me. It isn’t much, but I want you to have it’.
> 
> He could. He should.
> 
> He wouldn’t.
> 
> Instead, all that left Gavin’s mouth was, “How the fuck did you find me?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, this chapter was so much fun to write & I've been wanting to upload it for days, but either kept forgetting or didn't have the energy to get it here. I just had to put one of my favourite lines in the summary & I sincerely hope that this chapter is enjoyed as it was my favourite to write so far.

_ “To live is to suffer; _

_ To survive is to find some meaning in the suffering.” _

_ ~ Friedrich Nietzsche _

“They’re just friends?”

“That’s what he told me. Said he was looking for his friend.”

“You ever seen two people hug each other like that?”

“Nope.”

“They look like they’ve been through hell.”

“Maybe they have.”

“I think you might be right.”

The quiet commentary from the mechanic & her friends was nothing more than background noise, eventually fading out completely as Gavin focused on feeling the heart that was beating in that chest he was being held against.

Connor was okay.

He was o-fucking-kay.

He was alive. So very fucking alive. 

Gavin wasn’t so sure if you listened close to his own chest that you’d be able to hear a heart beating. If you cracked him open to peer inside, he wasn’t too convinced a soul would seep out.

But for Connor? There was so much soul, so much heart, so much  _ life. _

Furling his fingers tighter in the jacket Connor was wearing, Gavin had to bite down on his lip from where his face was buried in the crook of his companion’s neck to stop himself from making any pained sounds.

Because fuck if he didn’t ache. So fucking much.

Connor was practically crushing him in the tight embrace & either he was cracking one of Gavin’s ribs or putting it back in place, he hadn’t quite decided yet. But he did know the pain was worth it.

That feeling as though someone was setting little fires in his nerve endings, as though his lungs were angry at him for doing something as basic as breathing, as the healing skin on his knuckles split the tighter he clutched onto Connor; it was all fucking worth it.

_ Connor  _ was worth it.

So Gavin buried his face harder against Connor’s neck, pressing as close as he possibly could, chest to chest, feeling the way the man’s heart was pounding in his chest. Gavin could feel it like a goddamn caged bird. Erratic & if it beat hard enough, perhaps it’d be able to crack his ribs right open.

He wasn’t even too sure how long they had been standing there for, making up for the lost time that Gavin had so selfishly thrown away when he kicked Connor out of that motel room. But he did know that he’d stay there, teeth sinking into his own lip, pain radiating throughout his whole being, just until Connor pulled away first. 

“You’re a-a fucking asshole.” He heard Connor whisper against where he had his face buried against Gavin’s ever tousled hair & all he could do in return was nod his head ever so slightly as a laugh that he couldn’t hold back bubbled out of his throat. Scratchy & rough, nothing as angelic as Connor’s, nothing that sounded like a laugh that someone would want to memorise, but it was  _ something. _ Something genuine.

“I know.” Gavin rasped out & it was only when Connor began to slowly pull back that Gavin pulled back just enough to peer up at his face, still clutching onto his jacket, almost afraid that if he let go, the man in his arms would just disappear all over again.

As his gaze was met by those stunning honey brown eyes, Gavin just wanted to close those few inches of space that was between their lips. The moment was _ right there.  _ It was perfect.

He wanted so badly to lean up, press his lips against Connor’s & swear to him that he would never leave him again. Say that he was sorry & that he fucked up. That the stupid necklace didn’t even matter & that there was no possible way Connor could possibly understand just how much he fucking missed him while they were apart.

He wanted so badly to just tell Connor the truth. To confide in someone. To explain everything. He could see that Connor held as much trauma as he did, even if he didn’t know what it was.

He wanted to lay open all that he was across a table, gesture to it & say, ‘This is me. It isn’t much, but I want you to have it’.

He could. He should.

He wouldn’t.

Instead, all that left Gavin’s mouth was, “How the fuck did you find me?” 

Just like that, his moment was gone.

With an almost vacant laugh & a shake of his head, Connor shrugged with one shoulder as he took a moment to study the fresh bruising that littered Gavin’s face. “Dumb luck.” He finally settled on, tentatively reaching a hand up to grip Gavin’s chin so he could tip the man’s head to the side slightly, inspecting the bruising along his cheekbone beneath the bright lights.

The part of Gavin that was reserved & thoroughly believed that he didn’t need someone to look out for him had him wanting to pull away, swat Connor’s hand to the side & spit out an insult that’d have the man thinking twice before trying again. But then there was the side of Gavin that fucking craved the touch, the feeling of the warmth & the sparks that were left behind on his skin on every little section his companion touched.

To say those two sides were at war with one another would be an understatement.

They were fucking raging inside of him, tearing him apart at the seams.

Like a fucking cartoon, when the character had a little devil on one shoulder & an angel on the other.

Drawing in a slow, deep breath, Gavin realised that he hadn’t replied, even though he thought he had; he stayed standing there, giving into the good for once rather than the bad & let Connor fuss over the fact he was hurt.

Even if most of his injuries were from his own volition back at the bar, not the accident.

“It’s nothing.” He whispered & seeing the concern sitting in those pretty brown eyes had something twisting in his chest, something Gavin didn’t particularly like. Perhaps it was the fact he had made those brows knit together, those eyes look so sad & worried.

He had kicked Connor out in a fucking snowstorm. He hadn’t even apologised & still Connor was worried even though he had every right to give Gavin a few more bruises.

Connor should have marched right up to him & punched him right in his already busted nose.

He didn’t. He wouldn’t. He should.

Gavin’s hands dropped from where they were still gripping Connor’s jacket & he reluctantly pulled away, as if coming to his senses a little too late, realising that he didn’t deserve the kindness of Connor’s touch when he had treated him so poorly.

“It’s not nothing. You’re hurt.”

“So?”

“Why do you do that?” Connor asked ever so softly, being sure to keep his voice so quiet, it was clear that those words were made for Gavin & Gavin alone.

“Do what?” Gavin replied, as though he didn’t know exactly what Connor was talking about. He could see the disappointment flash across Connor’s features as he pulled away, as he tipped his head slightly to divert his gaze, the action serving to better highlight the purple bruises that were littered along his cheekbone.

“That!” Connor bit back in a hushed whisper. He took a step closer to Gavin & of fucking course Gavin responded by taking a step back.

Why was it that he was incapable of keeping a good thing going? Why was it that every time something went even remotely well, he fucking sabotaged it? 

Was it through fear that the good thing could be taken from him? That if he destroyed it first then at least nobody else could catch him off guard by doing the same thing later?

Was it guilt? The sense that he didn’t deserve something good? 

Perhaps it was something else entirely.

“You act like you don’t deserve a kind touch unless you’ve been badly hurt first. Even then you pull away.”

“I left you in the freezing snow, Con, I don’t exactly deserve your niceties.” Gavin muttered through his grit teeth, eyes flickering up to Connor’s, before instantly regretting it & instead looked back to the oil stained floor.

That must have ticked something off inside of his companion, itched him in just the wrong way that made his patience snap.

“Stop acting like a punch is healthier for you than me being nice!” Connor snapped loud enough for the man who had bought him breakfast & given him a lift to peer over with concern written across his face.

Gavin just shook his head with a hollow laugh, his less painful hand coming up to brush over his injured nose as he drew in a sharp breath through his nose. 

Could Connor see through him that clearly?

He didn’t quite know what to fucking say back, because it wasn’t like Connor was exactly wrong, was he? Gavin was accustomed to pain, he knew it like he knew his own name. It was something he had experience in. But this? This kindness that Connor was supplying him with?

It was foreign. It was different.

It scared him.

It scared him because it left him wanting more.

“Don’t act like you fuckin’ know me, Connor, because you don’t.” Gavin limped past his travel companion, to go where, he had no fucking clue considering the couch he was crashing on was behind him. But what-the-fuck-ever, he was already half way forward, so he wasn’t about to make an ass of himself & turn around now.

Or at least, he wouldn’t have. Until Connor spoke up with such a confidence, that there wasn’t even that usual shake to his voice. That was enough to stun Gavin into stopping in his tracks.

“Because you won’t let me!” 

_ ‘You won’t let me.’ _

It was so reminiscent of something Tina had said to him once.

They had been living together for a few months, when Gavin had stumbled back into their apartment, bloodied & bruised from yet another fight that he had started.

Tina didn’t ask anything as she patched him up & even stitched the wound that cut across his brow bone, the scar still visible now, cutting through his eyebrow. But once Gavin was all cleaned up, she asked him to tell her what happened, because she was worried. Because she cared.

One thing led to another & the pair started arguing. 

Tina _ never _ fucking pushed for answers, she never demanded to know what was wrong or why, she was always just a shoulder to cry on, a friend, the only friend he had & so desperately needed.

Even on the nights when Gavin would wake up yelling or crying from a nightmare, or the times when he could crawl into her bed & fall asleep beside her just to feel safe. Which happened most nights when they didn’t stay up watching shitty movies on the couch until sunrise.

The first few times it happened, Gavin would knock on Tina’s bedroom door, wait for her to answer & would sit in her room with her. She’d just talk to him to take his mind off of things. That progressed to him falling asleep beside her as she talked & from there, Tina had made it clear that her bed was an open invitation for Gavin.

He didn’t have to wake her up, he didn’t have to ask first, he could just let himself in if it’d help him feel safer & that’s exactly what he would do. He’d wake from a nightmare & if he didn’t yell out thinking it was real, if Tina was still asleep, then he’d make his way into her room. He’d crawl into bed beside her & after a few hours of just lying there, he’d actually drift off.

Even then, Tina never pushed him to open up.

Even when Gavin would stay awake all night, nervously eyeing the door as though he expected his father to come barging in, even though they were in another state.

Even when Gavin had actually opened up & confided in Tina about how he ended up with a scar across his chest, telling her a little about his shitty father, she never pushed him to tell her more than what he was comfortable with sharing.

The next day they booked for Gavin to get a tattoo to cover it up. She helped come up with the design with him, a large raven that spanned across the whole of Gavin’s chest. Hell, Tina never even asked what the significance of the raven was, if there was one.

Tina never pushed for answers.

But that night that Gavin came stumbling in beaten half to death? That night she needed to know if she was going to find her best fucking friend dead in a ditch one day.

She needed to know if she was going to have to investigate his death & treat it like another fucking case that she could forget about after a few glasses of wine after a thirteen hour shift.

Gavin yelled at her, telling her that she wouldn’t understand what he was going through & all she had to say softly in return was, ‘because you won’t let me try.’

_ ‘You won’t let me.’ _

Fuck if it didn’t strike something to his very core & Connor saying those words did the exact same thing.

Tina knew what she was getting into, she just wanted to know how long she had with Gavin. 

What was the shelf life of Gavin Reed?

She just needed to know that she could at least have some good memories with him before his inevitable self destruction.

A small feeling told him that Connor was somewhat the same. 

They were just two people who so desperately wanted to know Gavin, to know who lay beneath all of the trauma & all of the hurt. 

They were just two people who so desperately wanted to know that perhaps, even if he wasn’t healing, that he was okay. Even if he was sad, that he wouldn’t disappear. They just wanted to know whether or not he was going to fucking kill himself or get someone else to do it for him.

But he would.

He didn’t know when, or how, whether it’d be sooner or later. All Gavin knew was that he wasn’t going to make it out of Detroit once he finally made it there & that he didn’t want to drag them down with him. 

It was why Gavin had left Tina without telling her exactly where he was going, only staying in contact through calls & texts.

It’s why he didn’t kiss Connor when he had the chance.

It’s why he couldn’t. He couldn’t make that leap when he knew he wasn't going to stick the landing. When he knew he was going to plummet to his death. 

He wasn’t about to drag Connor down too.

Gavin went to turn around & paused about half way, tipping his head slightly to glance at Connor. In return, the man fixed him with a pleading look, one that spoke more than words ever could, one that was begging Gavin not to walk away.

So he did just that. 

He walked away.

Nowhere far, nowhere that meant he was too far away so he couldn’t mend his mistakes, but just far enough that it’d push Connor away, just a little bit. Just to buy a little bit of time to rebuild his defensive walls back up around himself. 

“I need a smoke.” Was all Gavin left Connor with & just like that, as he tried to stifle that goddamn infuriating limp, Gavin made his way out of the building so he could lean against the wall outside & fill his lungs with nicotine.

It was only when Gavin went out for his cigarette that Connor finally decided to greet the mechanic properly. 

He stood there for a few moments first though, feeling helpless, as though Gavin had left him stranded in the middle of the ocean & had taken the last life raft along with him.

But Connor was quick to push the feeling down. He was quick to shake his head, run a hand through his hair & fake another smile.

He laughed off a remark about how he & Gavin fought like an old married couple, along with a remark about how the two of them looked as though they were made to be together. All because they both had bruises on their face, even if his were now more faded than Gavin’s were.

There was even a comment about the old movie ‘Fight Club’. 

Rule number one of Fight Club, though? Don’t talk about Fight Club.

Maybe that was why Gavin would pretend his bruises that were so clearly from a punch were from his car accident instead.

Connor even surprised North by passively saying how he had only known Gavin for a few weeks give or take. They had never met before their time on the road together & for a moment, North didn’t even believe him. She claimed they looked far too tied up within each other to be practically strangers.

Connor agreed with that.

They were so tied up, so much so, that they somehow managed to find one another in a completely different state, even when they had no form of contacting each other.

How many people could say they could do that?

He wondered if Gavin felt the same way he did. If Gavin was just as drawn in as he was.

Connor was quick to push those thoughts down. 

What a terrible, terrible mess he had got himself into.

From there, he inspected the damage to the car better now there wasn’t a tree trunk in the way. He knew the repairs were going to be pricey, he also knew for a fact that he still owed Gavin for the original damage that he had technically caused.

He also knew he wouldn’t give Gavin the money.

The small amount of money he had left split between his shoes suddenly became a lot more heavy. Each step he took felt like more effort than the last as he made his way around the car before ending up right back at the front again.

After some talk with North, Connor was quick to learn that she didn’t at all mind if Gavin slept on her couch for a few nights. After learning he was just passing through & if it meant it could save the guy some money on paying for motels? She was more than happy to let him. 

Connor was so taken aback by the hospitality that he couldn’t help but ask her why she was being so kind to Gavin.

She didn’t have much to say back, besides that she just wished that when she had needed it, that someone had been there for her. North had suffered through having to use what little money she had on things that could have been avoided if she would have just played her cards differently.

She understood what it was like to struggle. She didn’t want to see others suffering, so she was offering the kindness that she had every single right to not have.

If anything, she deserved to be just as angry as Gavin always seemed to be. Just as shitty towards strangers. But she wasn’t. Her & her friends were nothing but hospitable & kind, for no other reason than that they all knew what it was like to be alone in a time of need.

On the outside, Jericho’s was just a place that fixed cars, but, on the inside? They were like a little family, caring for those who needed it & fuck if that didn’t bring a genuine half smile to Connor’s lips. 

It had been a long time since he had met anybody genuinely nice. Except for that cop lady who had given him those hand-knit gloves.

The one that was looking for Gavin. Or at least, she perfectly described Gavin.

Shit, he should tell Gavin.

He would. As soon as they were alone.   
  
He would. He should. He didn’t.    
  
A few hours passed & Connor got distracted by eating something else thanks to Gavin giving him some more food. More hours passed, the sun set & Connor forgot to tell Gavin all about the kind stranger who was looking for someone exactly like him.

Josh & Markus had left a few hours prior. North left after clarifying that no money was kept on site, so if they planned to rob the place then there was no point. She explained that she’d lock the doors, but would be back by ten the next morning. 

After telling the pair to make themselves at home, she left.

It was eerily silent between them for a while. The most Gavin had done in the form of communication was when he offered Connor the food for dinner. But even then, he didn’t say anything. When Connor thanked him, he just grunted out a sound that was somewhat reminiscent of an ‘I don’t care’; which, oddly, Connor had sort of missed hearing him say in the time that they were apart, even if he hated him saying it when they were together.

Weird how that worked.

Only one of the garage lights had been left on & on a dimmer setting so they could still get some shut eye without being kept awake. It also meant they’d be able to move around without tripping over a shelf & cracking their fucking skulls open or something just as stupid. Because that was just their fucking luck.

Connor was standing over at one of the shelves, looking through it all as a means to keep his hands busy until he got too tired. Gavin was lying on the couch on his back, one arm propped behind his head, his other hand resting flat on his stomach.

His bag was on the floor beside the couch, his blanket draped over it, Connor’s backpack beside it.

There was sort of an unspoken agreement between them. Perhaps it was when Gavin had silently offered Connor something to eat for dinner, despite being his brooding self. Or maybe it was when Josh & Markus went to leave, they asked if Connor was leaving too & when he glanced at Gavin, Gavin just shrugged, so Connor said he would stay.

But it was an unspoken agreement that Connor could stay. That he  _ would  _ stay. That even though neither of them had actively spoken the words to confirm it, they both needed one another’s company. That they wanted to stick together.

That thought had the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corners of Connor’s lips, but it faded just as quickly as it was there & he went back to looking through the shelf. At all of the machine pieces, trinkets & various other things that caught his interest.

One thing in particular caught his attention.

_ “Woah.” _ He murmured beneath his breath as he moved a few things, stumbling across an old polaroid camera. “Didn’t even think these things existed anymore.” 

Unable to help himself, Connor carefully picked it up & gently blew away the little layer of dust that had collected on top of it like some sort of blanket.

A relic like that didn’t deserve to collect dust & be forgotten by those around it.

As Connor inspected the black camera between his hands, brows pinched together as curiosity washed across his features, he peered over at Gavin lying on the couch with his eyes fluttered shut. Still in that same position.

_ Picture perfect. _

Connor looked down to the camera, then back to Gavin, then down to the camera again. 

_ Why the hell not?  _

As quietly as he could, Connor focused the lens on the camera to better adjust to the dim lighting before holding it up to his face, spying Gavin’s perfectly resting form & before he could stop himself, he was already clicking the shutter button.

The moment the flash went off, Connor cursed quietly to himself as Gavin flinched, his eyes snapping open at the same time to fix Connor with a rather irritated glare.

“I’m sorry! I-I didn’t-” Connor began in an almost panicked voice, but found that he hadn’t even thought of the rest of that sentence. Instead, he just looked to the camera as he held it up, as though that would better explain what he was trying to say. Whatever that was.

As he looked to the camera, he saw the little picture roll out of the bottom & carefully took it out, brows furrowing together as it just came out blank. White. Nothing.

Fuck. He really wanted to have a permanent memory of how peaceful Gavin looked in that short moment.

“You have to wait a few minutes.” Gavin’s rugged voice filled Connor’s ears & his momentary panic over possibly pissing his companion off was quickly washed away as his eyes flickered up to meet Gavin’s forests of green-grey.

What was an irritated glare had softened out around the edges slightly as Gavin sat himself up on the couch, stretching his arms above his head as he did so.

The man’s face scrunched up into a little wince at his clear pain, the bottom of his shirt tugging up just enough for Connor to spy his happy trail & the smooth, olive skin along his hip bones. It looked as though more bruises lay beneath, hidden away from the world.

He wanted to see more. He wanted to push Gavin’s shirt away so he could map out all of his injuries & decide whether his companion was going to make a full recovery or not. He wanted to see if that cop was really describing Gavin. He wanted to see if he had that tattoo.

He wanted more.

_ Oh dear. _

Connor was quick to divert his gaze as his cheeks reddened slightly, looking back to the polaroid picture. The longer he watched, the more he could see shapes beginning to take form.

“Woah.” He repeated with just as much awe in his voice as the first time, slowly making his way over to Gavin, practically falling over his own feet as he was still too busy staring at the picture that was developing right before his eyes.

He turned, flopped down onto the couch beside Gavin & held out the camera for him to take, all the while never taking his eyes from the picture.

He felt Gavin slowly take the camera. 

“Never seen a polaroid before?”

“Only in the movies.”

“Only in the movies.” Gavin echoed with an ever so faint laugh & a shake of his head. “You get the chance to play with an old camera & the first thing you take a photo of is this ugly mug?”

Connor didn’t say that if he had a thousand different chances to take a thousand different photos of anything he wanted to, he’d always choose Gavin. 

Instead, he just admired the little polaroid for a little while longer.

It had perfectly captured where Gavin was resting on the couch & thanks to the fuzziness of the camera, you couldn’t completely see his bruised face. 

The picture didn’t depict the man’s injuries, didn’t show that Gavin wasn’t actually sleeping, didn’t show any of his demons. It just showed Gavin.

To anyone who was none the wiser, the photo was of a man just taking a nap on the couch.

But to Connor? It was so much more.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Connor’s eyes flickered up to look at his companion who was inspecting the camera just like how he had a few moments prior. “Can I keep this?” He asked rather abruptly, holding up the little polaroid so Gavin could see what he meant.

“Wha- Oh. I guess. Uh, yeah, sure.” 

“Can I take another one?”

“You’re pushing your luck.”

_ That wasn’t a no. _

“I know.”

Gavin tipped his head to glance at Connor, as though he could see the words that had come out of his mouth & wanted to study them, wanted to pick them apart to see just how genuine they were or not.

After a little too long silence, a contemplative one on Gavin’s end, the man held the camera up to his eye, pointing it right at Connor.

“Say fuc-”

“-Wait!” 

“Wait what?” Gavin asked, lowering the camera just enough to peer over it at Connor, who suddenly looked rather worried, finger still hovering over the capture button.

Of fucking course Gavin would say ‘say fuck’ instead of ‘say cheese’.

Connor looked around the room as though something else could give him the answer he wanted before looking back to Gavin again. “I don’t- I... L-look at me, I’m a mess!” Connor settled on, gesturing to the faded bruises on his face & his hair that was in dire need of washing.

“So am I.” Was all Gavin had to say, rather deadpan, camera going back in front of his face & after a moment of silence, he added on the end, “At least you’re a mess in a cool jacket.”

Connor shook his head but couldn’t stifle the laugh that crawled out of his throat. 

He tipped his head to the side to divert his gaze from Gavin as he laughed at his remark, dimples forming in his cheeks, eyes crinkling at the edges. It was a genuine laugh, perhaps a mildly self deprecating one, but genuine nonetheless & right in that moment, Gavin snapped the photo.

“Hey!” Connor’s laugh died down, being replaced by a glare directed right at Gavin, not that it was all that convincing. “I wasn’t ready!”

“Neither was I!” Gavin retorted as he took the little photo before placing the camera down beside their bags where it wouldn’t get trodden on by either of them. He brought his focus back to the slowly forming photo of his companion.

As he quietly waited for the picture to form, the tiniest of smiles tugged at Gavin’s features & Connor pretended he didn’t notice. He pretended he didn’t notice that the only reason that smile was forming on his face was because he was looking at a photo of Connor. He pretended he didn’t notice the way Gavin lovingly swiped his thumb across the polaroid, as though checking to be sure it was real, that it was there & wasn’t just going to disappear.

That Connor wasn’t just going to disappear.

After letting Gavin have his moment, Connor leaned in to peer over at the photo. 

It was his side profile; a rather wide grin on his face, nose crinkled up from his laughter perfectly captured forever on that tiny sheet of photo-paper. 

“You think-” He began, but paused as Gavin’s head tipped in favour of looking right at him as he spoke, their faces so close from where Connor was leaning over that it damn near took his breath away.

He could practically smell the old cigarette smoke that clung to Gavin’s clothes, that always seemed to cling to Gavin’s very being. He could feel the warmth that always seemed to radiate from Gavin’s body. Warmth that he was jealous of because he was always so fucking cold. 

Swallowing around the lump that had formed in his throat as his eyes flickered to Gavin’s lips, then back to Gavin’s face, “Do you… Do you think we’ll get into trouble? For using her camera?” Connor whispered. Whispered as though it were a secret, whispered as though if he spoke any louder, he would scare Gavin away.

Gavin’s deep, tired green-grey eyes seemed to watch every movement that Connor made, seemed to study every part of him before he whispered back, “It was all dusty. I fuckin’ doubt it.”

“Gavin?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad I found you.” 

Connor was still leaning close, still holding the polaroid in one of his hands, Gavin holding the polaroid of him in one of his too. Still with their lips barely a few inches apart. __

_ I’m glad I found you & I want to kiss you. I want to smother you in all that I have to offer because you’re so fucking stupid, you could have died! I’m so angry that you could have fucking died! That you would have died before I-  _

“Connor?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I left you.”

Connor wanted to say  _ ‘It’s okay. I don’t mind. I know you want me to be angry at you for that, but I’m not. I know you want me to throw a punch like it doesn’t cause a physical ache in my chest to see you hurt. I know you want something violent, but I can’t give that to you. A snowstorm is nothing in comparison to what I’ve suffered through, so it’s okay. I really don’t mind.’ _

But when he opened his mouth to speak, all that came out was, “It’s fine.” 

It really was fine. Because Connor was so much more affected by the fact Gavin was hurt rather than the fact Gavin had hurt him. 

He was just glad that Gain was alive.

So alive that he wanted to kiss him.

He could. He was right there. Their lips were so fucking close & he should, he should show him just how important he was to him, just how much he needed Gavin to understand that he cared. He cared so much. Nines always told him that he cared too much & maybe he did, but he wanted to show Gavin just how grateful he was that he was alive. That he didn’t find Gavin’s corpse in that car when it was still wrapped around the damn tree.

He wouldn’t.

Instead, Connor tucked the polaroid into his jacket pocket & both of his hands reached up so he could take Gavin’s necklace off from where it was tucked into his shirt. Then, he carefully placed it over his companion’s head, the little disc on the chain sitting perfectly on Gavin’s upper chest.

With an ever so subtle, triumphant smile, Connor tapped on the disc. 

The moment he did, his opportunity to kiss Gavin was gone along with it. The man broke their steady eye contact so he could look down, eyes studying the small pendant.

First, Gavin’s brows knitted together & he looked a little confused, but that quickly morphed into surprise, then what Connor could only assume was happiness, but Gavin didn’t quite have a distinct expression for that particular emotion.

“You dropped it.” Connor finally whispered after watching Gavin pocket the polaroid of him in favour of bringing a hand up to play with that little metal disc that sat on the chain, that clearly had so much more importance to Gavin than Connor would ever understand.

When Gavin didn’t reply, Connor added on, “When we watched Blade Runner. I went back there. Found it.”

He wasn’t entirely sure which part of that sentence had Gavin’s head snapping up, eyes ever so slightly wider than usual as they looked right at him, searching his face for any indication that what he was saying wasn’t the complete & honest truth.

Looking at him as though he was a goddamn mad man for searching for the necklace.

When he found nothing that implied Connor was lying, when Gavin realised that he was opening & closing his mouth like a goddamn fish with no actual words coming out, when for a moment, Connor was convinced that Gavin might lean in & kiss him, the man just shook his head, diverted his gaze & murmured, “Can’t believe you actually found it.”

“Can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t.” 

Sure, there was a ridiculously high chance that he would never have found it, the odds were never exactly ever stacked in Connor’s favour, but he would have searched that field until he turned to ice, just to find that stupid necklace.

Besides, he wanted to, at least a little bit, rub it in Gavin’s face that the man had doubted him.

For a brief second, Connor was certain that he caught tears welling in those sparkly eyes of Gavin’s, but the man just blinked them away as his hand moved from the necklace to rub over his nose with a sharp sniff.

“Idiot.” Gavin let out a breathy laugh & Connor didn’t even hesitate to murmur, “Asshole” beneath his breath right back. It just felt right, the banter felt natural & for a moment, it was as though they hadn’t been apart at all.

For a moment, they were okay.

That moment stretched out for the next few hours as Connor curled up on the end of the couch, his jacket cosy enough to bunker down in, so he actually felt kind of warm & comfortable. It wasn’t great, but it was better than sleeping in a fucking bus shelter.

Gavin was curled up on the other end of the couch. For a little while, he was on his phone, tapping away before eventually, Connor felt him shuffle around.

He cracked an eye open only ever so slightly to peer at the man before pretending to be asleep again. Gavin slowly shuffled closer, then paused for a few minutes, then got a little bit closer.

Connor could practically feel the hesitance in the man’s actions, but he just stayed perfectly still, didn’t dare make a sound for the fear of scaring Gavin away like he was a skittish cat. Like he was a deer in the wild or something else more delicate than what his bruises implied.

Eventually, the man reached over & tugged his blanket up, wrapping it around himself as he snuggled down into it & at the same time, sort of snuggled up to Connor’s side. 

It was so comforting. So warm & safe.

So much so that Connor struggled to fight the little smile off of his features. After a few moments, Connor shuffled down just a little bit to get into a better position, strategically moving his arm just enough to give Gavin the space to snuggle right up against the crook of his body, which the man did almost immediately. In response, Connor gently rested his arm around his companion’s shoulders.

They stayed that way for a long while, Connor pretending he was asleep & Gavin pretending that he believed Connor’s little act. Until eventually, in a barely there whisper, Connor asked, “Gav? Are you awake?”

The man noticeably stiffened somewhat beside him, to which Connor just tightened his arm around him, a silent indicator that it was okay that he was lying against him.

It was more than okay. Besides, he was keeping Connor warm.

Then, just like last time that he had asked that question, Gavin responded with, “No.”

Just like last time, Connor responded with, “Oh. Okay then.”

But before he could let his nerves get the better of him, before he could find an excuse to not say what he wanted to, Connor whispered the question that he had been wanting to ask since he saw that gun with one bullet missing. Since he noticed that Gavin always took more back roads than main ones, since he noticed the man always nervously looking around, as though he never wanted to be seen out in public, since the cop had perfectly described Gavin’s features.

“Gavin? Are you in trouble?”

“Are you?” He retorted without missing a beat.

“I’m not sure.”

“Me either.”

Then, after a short yet heavy silence, one that consisted of Connor holding Gavin close as he ruminated over what his response could possibly mean, he finally whispered, “Gav?”

“Yeah?”

“You could have kissed me.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you?” Connor couldn’t help but ask. Perhaps it was a little odd to ask such a thing & in no way did he actually expect an answer. Someone didn’t need a reason to not kiss someone else, they didn’t need an excuse, but just in case there was one, Connor let his curiosity get the better of him.

“Because.” Gavin finally settled on saying after a rather long silence. 

They both decided to leave it at that. 

Connor didn’t press further, didn’t want to push Gavin away after making some sort of progress, didn’t want to make him upset or make him uncomfortable. He was perfectly content with having Gavin curled up at his side, sharing a blanket. He was perfectly content with looking over to the driver’s side to see Gavin tapping away to the music of the radio. He was perfectly content with looking over the table to see Gavin eating blueberry pancakes, sipping on his too-sweet coffee.

They never had to kiss. 

Connor was perfectly content with just having Gavin  _ there. _

But, right as he was slowly beginning to drift off to sleep, Gavin’s warmth helping to lull him off that little bit faster, that rough voice he adored so much spoke up in a barely there murmur. Perhaps it was because Gavin thought Connor was actually asleep, making it easier for him to be honest. Perhaps it was something else entirely.

“Because I don’t want to lose you.”

The words had Connor’s heart jumping right up into his throat & he wondered why on earth they were called ‘butterflies’ in his stomach when he felt as though it was something far more violent, far more dangerous.

But, he understood. Perhaps more than Gavin realised. He knew that once they crossed that line, once that little defensive wall was broken down between them, then they couldn’t go back. Once their lips collided & sparks ignited those flames, there was no putting them out.

Those fires would rage until both of them turned to ash. 

That scared Gavin in the same exact way that it scared Connor.

If Connor was going to go down anyway & if Gavin was going to go down too, if their worlds were going to end in fire as they passed state lines, crumbling the closer they got to Michigan, then at the very least, they wouldn’t be alone.

After drawing in a shaky breath, Connor tipped his head so he could place an ever so soft, gentle yet heartfelt kiss to Gavin’s hair. As he held his lips there, nose buried in hair that smelled of cheap motel soap & cigarette smoke, Connor whispered, “You won’t.”

That was a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for any comments & kudos! They are inspiration fuel<3


	8. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor & Gavin find themselves wondering mindlessly through a town neither of them are familiar with to kill some time while Gavin's car gets fixed after his accident.  
> That's when they come across a music store & just like that, for a little while, the world seems a little less scary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The main scene that takes place in the second half of this chapter has to be one of my absolute favourite bits of this story so far, I'd go as far to say as it beats the polaroid scene from the last chapter.  
> As always, I hope this is enjoyed as much as I enjoyed writing it ;w;

~~_ ‘ _ _ Dearest _ ~~ _ To Hank + Nines,  _

_ It’s snowing again. We’ve had a lot of snow over here. I don’t remember it snowing this much in Oregon. I think I might be getting sick, I don’t know, the weather hasn’t been too kind. Then again, when has this world done me any favours?  _

_ I’m not alone. I know what you’re thinking, you’re probably thinking ‘Oh no, we know what happened last time’, but this is different. My friend I’m with, he’s really quite nice-’ _

“Fuck you! Fuck you, you fucking fuck! Piece of shit, give me my fucking dollar back, you fuc- Ugh!” Gavin’s shouting had Connor’s head snapping up so quickly to look in his direction, that his pen scrawled a line across half of his writing.

He watched with bemused interest as his companion practically beat up a damn vending machine, all because his packet of chilli chips got stuck against the glass. 

Connor watched as Gavin smacked the glass, he even held both sides of the machine & shook it, before ultimately deciding to drop down onto his knees & stick his hand up the little slot to try to reach for his traitorous snacks.

It made the tiniest of laughs leave Connor from where he was sitting in the window seat of the diner. 

Connor had always preferred the window seats, he always preferred being able to watch as the world passed him by. He liked to watch people walk with their dogs, people hurrying to catch a bus that’d leave before they made it to the stop. He liked to just… Forget, for a little while. 

Watching other people go about their lives helped Connor forget about his own.

There were not many people to focus on at that particular moment. Perhaps it was due to the weather, only the bravest deciding to trek out into it. Or perhaps it was because Connor could only focus on his companion.

The whole world was right there, but all he could see was Gavin.

A very irritated Gavin who was earning strange looks from those few brave souls that were out in the snow & happened to pass him by. For somebody who absolutely despised anyone looking in his general direction, the man sure was making a scene.

With a shake of his head & a mental reminder to tease Gavin about it later, Connor looked back down to the postcard he was writing on.

On the opposite side, the postcard just had a giant ‘ _ Greetings from Iowa! _ ’ scrawled across it in bright yellow font on a blue background. It was rather ugly, but the only other option was a postcard with a sad dog on it that said ‘ _ Wish you were here _ ’. 

He didn’t wish they were here.

But Connor did wish that he was back there with them, but perhaps with Gavin too.

He wanted to show up to their weekly dinners at Hank’s with Gavin beside him. He wanted to show Gavin his life, his brother, adoptive father & Sumo. Did Gavin even like dogs? He wasn’t so sure.

He wanted to show the man the gallery he used to work at & the paintings he made that he had never shown to anyone else.

He wanted to show Gavin his whole world, even if he didn’t do the same in return. 

He just wanted to show the man a little bit of… normality. Something stable & warm. He wanted to show him good food that didn’t come out of a carton, packet or a truck stop diner’s kitchen.

It was a stupid fantasy. A stupid fantasy from the mind of a man who was always told that he dreamt too big, loved too much & saw the good in even the worst people.

Normality wasn’t home anymore. Normality was shitty diner coffee, blueberry pancakes split between them both, freezing weather & conversations that never lasted more than ten minutes.

Normality was road signs & cigarette smoke clinging to their sweaters. Normality was motel sheets & passenger seats.

Normality was… Gavin.

Everything else felt so foreign to him now.

After a cough & a sip of coffee to soothe his throat, Connor went right back to finishing up his writing. 

_ ‘What was I writing about? Oh, right. Yeah, so I’m not alone & I’m alright, just trying to stay warm. I miss you guys more than you could ever know & I hope the weather is treating you nicer than it is me. _

_ I know you have no way of contacting me back, but that’s for the best, I know for a fact that you’d be real mad if you found out where I was. By the time you get this, I probably won’t even be in Iowa anymore. _

_ Pet Sumo for me, please? I better go before my pancakes get cold. _

_ ‘Till we meet again,  _

_ xo Connor’ _

“What’cha writing?” Gavin’s voice abruptly filled his ears & Connor visibly jumped, free hand flying to his chest to press over his heart as he let out a heavy sigh with a mumbled, ‘Fuck, you scared me’ beneath his breath. His pen flicked as he jumped, causing him to scribble a little line that was connected to the ‘R’ at the end of his name.

The only flaws in his perfect, cursive handwriting were the two lines he had drawn because of Gavin.

For whatever reason, Connor couldn’t help but smile a little as he saw them.

Fucking Gavin. Making him make a fool of himself, looking as though he can’t even write a damn postcard without making a whole mess of that too. 

He didn’t realise that the man was done having his argument with the vending machine, but as he slouched down in the booth opposite Connor, Gavin dropped his packet of chips onto the table with a triumphant smirk sitting on his lips.

Gavin looked so pretty when momentarily forgetting about whatever it was that always made his brows knit so tightly together, made his lips curl down at the corners. That made him just so… Angry at everything.

After flickering his eyes up to glance at Gavin, Connor shrugged as he flipped the small card over to show his companion the greetings side. “Postcard.”

“You got someone to write to?” Gavin asked with a curious little tip of his head, his eyes flickering to the card, then back to Connor’s face. For once, he actually looked genuinely interested.

“Yeah.”

“Oh. I thought you were like… I don’t know, a hitchhiker who killed his whole family & is on the run or something, y’know?”

_ Yeah, or something. _

With a vacant, breathy laugh, Connor shook his head as he averted his gaze to look down at the postcard again, mostly just so he didn’t have to look at Gavin’s piercing green-grey eyes anymore. “I didn’t kill my family.” 

_ But I did kill three other people. It was self defence. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t go. It was self defence. I’m not a bad person. _

_ It was self defence. It was- _

“Ah. But… You’re on the run?”

“Are you?” Connor bit back, perhaps a little too defensively, but Gavin had a tendency to flip his questions back at him, so now it was Connor’s turn.

“Maybe.”

That was the end of that conversation.

Connor tucked the postcard that he was never going to send into the back of his sketchbook & once Gavin had another mug of coffee, always having at least two at every diner they stopped at, the duo made their way back out into the bitter cold to head to… Well, Connor wasn’t entirely sure.

When they had woken up that morning, they had both woken up around the same time after only getting about four hours sleep.

Gavin was still curled up against Connor’s side, even as he flinched awake. His body had jolted so much that it woke Connor up too. Not that he minded. He just ever so softly asked if Gavin was alright & when all he had to say in return was, ‘Fuckin’ fine’, they fell back quiet, staying pressed against one another on the couch that was a little small for two grown men to try to sleep on comfortably.

Connor wondered if Gavin stayed pressed against him because he could feel Connor shivering & wanted to help to keep him warm, or whether it was because he just wanted to be close to someone. 

Or maybe he just wanted to sleep against something that was more comfortable than the lumpy, uncomfortable arms of the couch.

Whatever his reason was, Connor was more than happy to oblige.

They stayed curled up there for a long while, too tired to actually get up, but not tired enough to sleep. 

Neither brought up the conversation from right before they fell asleep. They didn’t bring it up when Gavin finally got up to stretch his legs, or when North came in at bang on ten in the morning. 

Neither acted like anything had happened. North began to properly assess all of the damage, giving Gavin a price for how much it’d cost if she did the minimum amount of repairs necessary to get the car back on the road.

If Gavin was bothered by how much it’d cost, he didn’t show it. He didn’t portray, well, anything. He just nodded & agreed, thanking North for even bothering to see them at all, especially seeing as she had been called in on her day off.

She didn’t seem to mind & just told the pair to go get some breakfast, do something with the day as she wasn’t going to be finished anytime soon.

So they did just that.

Connor hid the polaroid camera beneath the blanket on the couch so North wouldn’t see it lying on the floor & once their bags were on their backs, the duo headed out to the nearest diner for breakfast.

On the way, Connor’s sticky fingers had swiped a postcard from the tiny news stand that was open for whatever fucking reason in the middle of what was turning out to be a very snowy December. He slipped it into the inside pocket of his pilot jacket without the clerk noticing.

He then quickly looked over the newspapers & magazines, checking to be sure there were no headlines that read something like ‘Man kills three in Oregon’ or ‘Police Lieutenant’s son turned murderer?!’

Deciding that he was safe for now, the pair trudged through the sludgy snow to the diner & ate their pancakes. Gavin had left halfway through after noticing those red packets of goodness inside that vending machine.

As they walked out of the diner, Connor caught sight of Gavin flipping the vending machine off & had to stifle a laugh by biting down on his lip. He pretended he didn’t notice.

With no car, no knowledge on the city, let alone the state they were in & with the weather being totally against them, Connor was sort of surprised that it took him such a long time to finally murmur, “So… Where are we going?”

“I don’t know.”

“Me either.”

Every so often as they walked, Gavin would pause, draw in a few deep breaths as his face scrunched up in pain before they continued.

For a while, Connor said nothing. For a while, it was silent between them bar for the sound of their shoes crunching against some of the snow that was sitting along the sidewalk.

But eventually, Connor couldn’t stop himself as he murmured, “We could find somewhere to stay. A motel. Watch TV all day. You’re limping.”

He could see that Gavin was hurt, for fuck sake he had literally just crashed his car. He was littered in bruises, limping & holding one of his arms against his torso as though moving it caused too much pain.

Gavin was in pain, yet continued to quietly push himself.

Connor got a sense that he would keep pushing himself too, until someone physically fucking stopped him or he passed out.

Stubborn prick.

But Connor’s words were a sort of olive branch. He was reaching out, offering them to Gavin, giving him that opening to _ talk _ & it was down to the man whether he chose to meet him halfway too, or cut the branch off.

At Connor’s words, Gavin faltered for a moment. He stopped in his tracks & once Connor noticed, being only a few paces ahead, he slowly turned around to face his rather irritated companion.

He wrapped his arms around his stomach as though it’d help to keep him warm & watched as Gavin stuffed his hands into his sweater pockets to do the same thing. Even an action as small as that had Gavin’s brows pinching together just that little bit more.

For a moment, it was as though they were in some sort of standoff. Staring at one another, waiting for the other to snap first. Connor was waiting for Gavin to explode in his face whereas Gavin was waiting for Connor to shout at him for not caring about the fact he was hurt.

When it looked as though neither of those things were going to happen, Gavin just started walking again, ever so lightly shoulder-checking Connor in the process.

Connor didn’t mind. He really didn’t. Gavin could have shoved him down in the snow & shouted in his face & he wouldn’t have minded, because at least Gavin had a reason to.

It took a moment or two for Connor to snap out of his own head & jog a few steps to catch up to Gavin, but when he did, the man murmured, “Car accident shook me up good.”

“You’re lying.” The words fell from his lips before he could wrangle them back in again & he cursed himself in his head for pushing his luck a second time in the space of a few fucking minutes.

Gavin threw another one of those angry glares at Connor, but he never threw a punch, never threw any expletives or words that would cut deeper than any knife, no, he just offered Connor a warning glare & Connor was quick to take it over the alternative.

He knew Gavin was giving him a warning to drop the subject. So he did. 

For a while again, they walked in almost silence.

He could hear Gavin’s shuddered breath, could hear the way the man would intermittently rub his hands together & breathe into them before deciding to pat down his jacket in search of his cigarettes. Again, just like the other times Connor had seen him smoke, it was genuinely as though Gavin thought it’d keep him warm.

It was as though rubbing his hands together wasn’t good enough, so holding a cigarette between his fingers was the better option.

The cold air was too much, so drawing in nothing but nicotine filled smoke was better.

Besides those soft sounds, or the sounds of Connor rubbing at his own upper arms to try to stay warm, everything else was quiet.

It stayed that way as they slowly walked through the streets of the tiny town that they had ended up in. It stayed that way as they looked around the few stores that were open for no other reason than because it got them out of the fucking snow.

It was as though they were both tuned into the same radio frequency of thought patterns. They didn’t need to speak to know that they didn’t actually want to look at things, they had no intentions of buying anything, they just wanted to keep warm.

This went on for a good few hours. 

Silently dragging out the minutes for as long as they possibly could in each store before moving onto the next one. Each store clerk gave them an odd look, likely solely based on the way they looked.

Judging books by their covers. Their ever so tattered covers. 

Just a pair of bruised & damaged people, not all of it on the exterior.

Just a pair of people who seemed more like ghosts than people. Misguided & drifting from one place to the next, never quite completely happy, but never quite completely empty either.

After all, how could someone be completely empty, when they were filled to the brim with hurt?

The only sign of life between them was the way Connor would cough & tap his chest to help clear his throat, Gavin giving him the odd glance that very almost looked concerned, but he never actively asked if he was okay.

Then… Something happened.

To the outside world, it was nothing. But to Connor? It was everything.

As they walked, Gavin slipped on some ice. Connor’s hands instinctively flew out to grip his elbows to stop the man from completely falling over. He noticed that Gavin had slipped because he was distracted.

He hadn’t been looking at where he was walking, hadn’t been checking on Connor as he coughed, he had been gazing almost longingly into a music store front window.

Connor knew exactly what he had to do to make Gavin feel just a little bit better.

“So, you like music. Do you play?” He asked ever so softly as he unhooked his arm from where he had looped it around Gavin’s to hold the man upright until he regained his footing.

Once having let go & earning a grunt in place of a thank you, Connor stepped up to the music store & rested his hand on the door handle, glancing back at Gavin with an expectant look on his face.

“Used to. C’mon, let’s go.” Was all Connor got in response, but if being around Gavin had taught him anything, it was that he had to be a stubborn little shit if he were to break through Gavin’s barriers that he had fortified around himself.

So rather than following after the man as he began to walk away, Connor opened the door to the store & stepped inside, the little bell above it jingling to notify someone was entering, it catching Gavin’s attention.

With the tiniest of smiles curling at just one corner of his lips, Connor watched out of his peripheral vision as his companion slowly came to a stop, turned on his heel & fixed Connor with another one of those famous ‘Gavin Glares’ as Connor had decided they were called. Although, it lacked any real bite.

Connor tipped his head just a bit more so Gavin was able to catch sight of the little smirk that was sitting on his face, it never looked quite as mischievous as Gavin’s did & headed properly inside the store.

It took all of seven seconds before Connor could feel Gavin’s presence behind him.

There was that familiar warmth that Gavin always carried with him, the warmth that Connor was oh so jealous of, but was a warmth that also served as a comforting reminder that Connor wasn’t completely alone.

They wandered around the store a little, Gavin’s eyes roaming over the guitars while Connor’s fingers delicately ran along some of the piano keys, playing a few little notes in no particular order.

Connor had always wanted to learn to play an instrument, but always spent his free hours too lost in his paintings to spare the time. Although, Nines played the piano absolutely beautifully & had taught Connor one or two very basic melodies, but nothing that he could remember without his brother being there to whisper in his ear which keys he needed to press next.

Gavin had made his way to the other side of the store & for a short while, Connor had been so distracted by the pianos that he didn’t immediately notice that Gavin wasn’t right beside him anymore.

He figured he would give the man some time alone, some time to himself without Connor trailing right at his side; so for another twenty minutes, Connor pretended to know what it was he was looking at as he studied the synthesizers. 

Eventually though, he gravitated back towards Gavin, as he always would, it seems.

He found his companion sitting right near the window.

Connor tried to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible as to not startle Gavin, not when he looked like _ that. _

Gavin was sitting on the little platform in the window with one of the honey-brown acoustic guitars sitting in his lap. It had little leaves engraved into the wood & Connor couldn’t help but decide that  _ that  _ guitar was meant for Gavin & Gavin alone.

If those little ferns that were engraved into it had any colour to them, they would match Gavin’s eyes perfectly. Green with those hints of grey. Like a forest as fog rolled in.

When those eyes flickered up to him, Connor offered a reassuring smile & ever so quietly pulled over one of the piano chairs to sit on it, facing Gavin with one leg crossed over the other. He shrugged his backpack off, placing it beside him on the floor & took his sketchbook out, flipping to a new page as he rested it on his knee.

Gavin just sat there quietly, guitar in lap, back to the window as the world outside passed them by. His head was tilted slightly as though intentionally avoiding Connor’s eyes & despite the fact that there were a few more people than earlier walking past the window, Connor, yet again, could see nothing but  _ him _

He wanted to hear nothing but him too.

“Do you remember how to play?” Connor asked as though to coax Gavin out of wherever he was lost, the words murmured in a voice that was barely above a whisper, as though he were afraid to startle Gavin if he spoke any louder.

He felt like that a lot recently.

Afraid of any sudden movements or sounds, afraid that one wrong move would have Gavin running away. 

It was then that it dawned on Connor that he wasn’t afraid of making Gavin jump, he wasn’t afraid of making Gavin angry, he was afraid that he would lose him.

Afraid that he would lose him & it’d be all his fault.

Those stunning, forest-green eyes flickered up to meet honey whiskey-browns & for a moment, they just looked at one another before Gavin finally shrugged, then nodded right after, as though he couldn’t decide what answer to give. Finally though, he looked down to the guitar.

His fingers strummed along the strings a few times before he reached a hand over to adjust the tuning, shifting a little to get more comfortable in the process, the wooden platform he was sitting on creaking slightly as he did so.

Gavin winced slightly as he moved his arm, it being clear that whatever injuries that lay beneath his clothes were still affecting him, yet, just like always, he shoved down his own pain & forced his face to return neutral.

Then, he began to play.

The man said nothing, didn’t ask for a song suggestion or argue that other people were around & he didn’t want to be seen; he simply just… played.

Fingers plucked at the guitar strings & Gavin’s eyes fluttered closed as he focused on the melody he was playing & fuck if it wasn’t the most beautiful thing Connor had ever heard.

For a few moments, Connor simply watched, mesmerised before dragging his eyes away so he could encapsulate the moment forever with graphite on paper. The only sound to come from him being the sound of his pencil gliding across the page.

His eyes flickered up to the man playing the melody every so often before back to his page, perfectly sketching Gavin sitting there with the guitar, head tilted & eyes fluttered shut. 

He perfectly recreated Gavin’s facial structure, even adding some extra shading to immortalise those bruises too. Perhaps it was awful to admit it, he almost felt guilty for even thinking it, but they suited Gavin. 

They matched his rough personality, his agitated, rugged voice, his ever narrowed eyes & the expletives that always rolled from his lips. The bruises looked almost as though they belonged there.

Then again, maybe that was because Connor had never seen Gavin without bruising on his face. The same could be said the other way around too.

Connor was adding the little engraved details to the sketch of the guitar when suddenly, he froze.

He was so sure that the melody had been the most beautiful thing he had ever heard, but that decision was quickly shoved aside when Gavin opened his mouth.

When Gavin began to _ sing. _

That voice singing as softly as his rugged, scratchy voice would allow, along with the gentle strums of that guitar? 

Connor was certain that there was nothing quite like it. Nothing as perfect as that.

All Connor could do was stare as words fell so perfectly from those chapped, cracked lips that still sported a split in them, in that voice that was so rough, it was as though the song was  _ made  _ just for him.

_ ‘How I wish, how I wish you were here.’ _

Gavin’s foot tapped on the floor in time with his delicate strums, sparkling eyes fluttering open to peer over at Connor with the tiniest of smiles as he continued to sing. That little smile was enough to tell Connor that Gavin knew damn well that he had distracted him from his sketching.

_ ‘We’re just two lost souls, swimming in a fish bowl, year after year.’ _

As their eyes met, Gavin sort of ever so slowly nodded his head, only so subtly, but it was in time with his singing & Connor was just so fucking mesmerised that his sketchbook had been long forgotten.

The tip of his pencil was still sitting on the page, just over where he was going to add some detailing to Gavin’s hand that he had almost finished sketching, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his muse.

Once more, the rest of the world had fallen away & the only thing left was Gavin sitting on that little platform, as though it were a stage made for him & him alone.

Connor’s eyes began to sting, tears prickling in them as he watched & listened.

Had Gavin seen him looking at that postcard earlier? Did he just know what song to choose, which one would crack Connor’s chest open & have his heart on display right there for Gavin to do whatever he damn well pleased with?

Did Gavin understand just how much Connor’s heart pounded in his chest when he looked at him for too long? Did he notice the way Connor’s breath would catch in his throat as he spoke his name? 

Did Gavin understand that he was important to him? That he meant something to him in a way that Connor struggled to find the right words for?

_ ‘Running over the same old ground, what have we found? The same old fears, oh, I wish you were here.’ _

It was just him, Gavin, a sketchbook & a guitar. A musician & an artist. Two kindred spirits who somehow got tangled up with one another & what an unsuspecting enigma Gavin turned out to be. A plot twist of the greatest caliber.

But just as quickly as the moment was there, it was gone.

As Gavin played the outro melody softer & softer until he came to a complete halt, he coughed to clear his throat & looked down at the guitar as his hand slowly fell away from the fretboard.

With his eyes glassy with tears, as quietly as he could, Connor slowly got up from where he was sitting, placing his sketchbook down on the chair so he could move over to sit beside Gavin on that little platform.

He shuffled right up to Gavin’s side & almost hesitantly rested his head on Gavin’s shoulder, eyes taking in the store that they were facing.

Neither spoke for a long while. There was no need for words. 

Connor fluttered his eyes shut & Gavin began to play again. Nothing in particular, just soft little ambient melodies, little strums here & there, fingers plucking at various strings. No more lyrics, no singing, just the sound of him playing paired with the sound of fingers sliding across the frets & strings.

For a moment, Connor felt a little less empty, a little less hurt, a little less nervous.

So much so, that he braved something that he had selfishly refused to do since the first moment he stepped into Gavin’s car.

He shuffled just a little bit, just enough to slide his shoe off, reach down & pull out the folded up notes that he had stashed in there. Then, he held them out to Gavin all the while still resting his head against the man’s shoulder. 

“It’s not much, but-” 

“Keep it.” Gavin murmured, cutting Connor’s sentence off before he had the chance to start rambling off messy apologies & ways of trying to defend his actions with excuses that he tried to make sound like genuine reasoning.

Connor’s hand wavered, but he stayed holding out the money nonetheless. In a hushed whisper, he spoke up again, “To help with the repairs. You said-”

“I know what I said.” Gavin once again cut him off, but not to be rude like most people would. He cut him off in favour of giving Connor some peace of mind. 

This was Gavin’s own way of saying, ‘I know I acted like I only kept you around until you gave me the repair money, but I actually want you around for more than that, I just have a hard time admitting it’.

Connor was beginning to understand Gavin’s way of speaking, or lack thereof, his way of showing compassion even when he was so adamant on acting as though he didn’t care.

Gavin lovingly brushed his fingers along the engraved detailing on the guitar before deciding to fold his arms over the top of it, resting his chin on them. Then, he tipped his head slightly so he could peer down at Connor who was still just sort of dumbly holding the money out.

Eventually, Connor admitted defeat & split the money he was holding in half, slipping half back into his shoe & sliding it back on, but keeping a hold of the other half.

He tipped his head a little against where he was leaning it against Gavin’s shoulder so he could peer lovingly up at the man who was looking right back at him.

One again, their faces were barely just a few inches apart.

“So… What happened?” Connor murmured & as Gavin asked, “What do you mean?”, Connor couldn’t help but flicker his eyes to the man’s lips to watch the way they moved as he spoke.

As though it were a secret that nobody else was allowed to hear, despite nobody being around but a store clerk who was minding her own business, Connor whispered, “These-” His hand tentatively came up to ever so delicately brush along the bruises along Gavin’s jawline, “-are from a punch. Or three.”

“How can you tell?”

“I’ve had my fair share.” Connor answered rather bluntly & honestly, that was the most honest he had ever been in regards to his past. Even if Gavin didn’t know that, or at least, not yet anyway.

The man never pulled back from where Connor was trailing the back of his fingers ever so delicately along his jaw & scruff; he didn’t pull away as Connor very bravely cupped his chin, using his thumb to gently run along Gavin’s lower lip & the split that sat there.

“There was a guy.” Gavin whispered against Connor’s thumb, his eyes rapidly moving, scanning the expanse of Connor’s face, as though searching for something that he could use as an excuse to stop opening up.

When Connor made no effort to speak, instead just offering a subtle nod in the hopes of encouraging Gavin to continue, the man actually fucking did. It sort of caught Connor off guard in a way, as he had genuinely expected those walls to come back, for Gavin to back away & for their conversation to die right there, but it didn’t.

Gavin had reached out for the olive branch.

He had met him halfway.

“I uh… We-  _ Y’know- _ ” Gavin made a rather crude gesture, so much so that Connor sort of wanted to laugh, because he could have just said that he had sex with a guy, but instead had to make a whole gesture for it before folding his arms & once again resting his chin on them.

“Then we fought. Don’t remember much, I was kinda drunk.”

“Did he hurt you?” Connor asked softly, but quickly realised that sort of made no sense seeing as Gavin was sporting bruises that obviously fucking hurt. “I mean, like, while you were, as you put it-” Then, he made the crude gesture that Gavin had just a few moments before.

He was so fucking glad he did too, because it earned him a rough, breathy laugh from his companion that was quickly followed by a shake of his head. Gavin’s eyes softened around the edges somewhat, his lips still curled up into the tiniest of smiles as he rested against his arms, head still tipped so he could focus on Connor as he murmured, “Nah, he didn’t. It’s fine. You should stop worrying.”

That was Gavin language for, ‘You should stop worrying  _ about me’. _

“I can’t help it.” 

“I can tell.”

Then, after a short silence, Gavin shifted again slightly so he could reach one of his hands out towards Connor’s face. For a short moment, he hesitated, so Connor took the liberty to meet him halfway, just like Gavin had done with him. Once his hand was close enough, Connor gently tipped his head to the side to rest his cheek against his hand.

A hand that was so rough & calloused, so used to throwing punches, he wondered if it was difficult for Gavin to be so gentle, or if it came to him as naturally as the violence did.

It felt as though the warmth from Gavin’s hand was slowly seeping in through Connor’s skin, running through his bloodstream & warming him up from the inside out. All of the little icicles that he was so certain had formed in his lungs & built up into an infuriating little cough that he woke up with, were melting away all because of Gavin’s gentle touch.

There was a sort of static in the air, an electricity crackling beneath the surface, something that Connor knew for a damn fact they could both feel, but both were afraid of getting shocked.

So just like every other time they got  _ this _ close to one another, they never quite closed that gap & lingered in a sort of limbo that they had created.

Perhaps it was where they belonged, after all, isn’t that where ghosts got stuck?

Gavin let out an ever so soft sigh, one that Connor could feel against his lips. His thumb ever so gently began to run over Connor’s cheekbone & the discoloured skin that stretched over it from a wound that had healed over from that first night he had run in front of Gavin’s headlights.

“Con?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” Gavin finally asked, as though it had been building & building & fucking building until he couldn’t hold it back any longer. 

He tried so hard to not care, but every goddamn time he looked over at Connor as he coughed, every time he split his pancakes down the middle for Connor to have half of, every fucking time he let Connor share his knitted blanket, that three word question grew heavier & heavier & once it was out, Gavin knew that his ‘I don’t care’s would no longer work.

“Right now? Yeah.” Connor whispered back honestly, then, “Gav?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you? Okay, I mean-”

“No.”

“That’s okay.”

“Con?”

“Yeah?”

There was a pause, only a brief one, but one that felt somewhat heavy, as though Gavin was arguing with himself in his own head & had to settle that before he could get his words out. “I want you to kiss me.” 

There it was again. Connor could feel his breath catching in his throat, his heart racing in his chest. Feel those fucking mammoth sized butterflies in his chest growing & gowing & fucking growing, trying to escape in any way they possibly could, even if it meant cracking his ribs open & flying out.

His hand that wasn’t holding the money slowly slid up along Gavin’s forearm, gently pressing against the hand that was cupping his face as though to hold it in place. 

In comparison to the warmth Gavin emitted, Connor’s skin was so fucking cold, so much so that he felt Gavin shiver at the subtle touch.

_ I want to. I want to more than you could possibly know. _

“I don’t think I can.” Connor whispered honestly as he leaned in, not to close that gap between their lips, but to rest their foreheads together & as he did so, he noticed Gavin’s eyes fluttering shut, so he did the same.

With his eyes shut, it helped him to focus on the moment, to focus on the sensation of being so very close to Gavin yet again. 

He could feel his warmth, smell the cigarette smoke that he could never shake & he was sure in return, Gavin would be able to smell that distinct thrift store smell of mothballs & musty clothes that have been in storage for too long clinging to the jacket he was wearing.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to lose you either.”

Because once this, whatever _ this _ was became real, then it meant it could be lost. Right now, Connor could just keep fooling himself into thinking he couldn’t lose something that he never had in the first place.

But he was foolish to think that by not closing that gap, he was somehow saving himself a world of hurt.

Connor didn’t want to lose Gavin; he knew he was attached, always falling in love a little too easily, always having one too many emotions right there for the taking.

But, a part of him sort of knew that at some point, he wasn’t entirely when or how, but at some point, Gavin was going to slip through his fingers. Gavin was going to step from the limbo they existed in & land six feet underground instead.

A part of Connor so fucking wished that he was wrong, but he knew he wasn’t. Gavin hadn’t said it outright, but it was the little things that all built up to one agonisingly painful conclusion: Gavin wasn’t going to survive past that Michigan border.

The times he asked if Connor was murderer, but never seemed to bothered by the answer, the way he initiated fights with people with absolutely no regard to the damage they could inflict upon him, the way he drove with one hand, the way he was in no way affected by the fact he had wrapped his car around a fucking tree.

Gavin had no regard for his own life; it was almost as though he was giving the world opportunity after opportunity to kill him & he was just waiting for it to actually happen.

It was almost as though he  _ wanted _ the world to do it.

Losing Gavin for good? Honestly, Connor couldn’t think of anything in that moment that could hurt more.

Just the thought alone had those tears stinging his eyes again, one of them getting free of the confines of his lash line & gently rolled down his cheek, catching on Gavin’s thumb.

In response, Gavin’s thumb gently swiped it away & his eyes fluttered open at the same time as Connor’s did, concern shadowing his features as he caught sight of Connor’s glassy eyes. “Con?”

“I’m okay.” He retorted with as quickly as he could & he took himself by surprise by being the first one to pull away. 

His hand slowly dropped from Gavin’s as he ducked his head to avert his gaze. Then, with a sniffle as he quickly swiped at his cheeks, Connor stood himself up & grabbed his sketchbook, not even looking at his sketch of Gavin before closing it & stuffing it into his backpack a little carelessly.

“We should get going.” Connor murmured as he fumbled with the money that was still sitting in his hand. After looking down at it, then to the guitar Gavin was holding, he marched over to the store clerk so he could ask how much the guitar would cost.

He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he didn’t buy Gavin that guitar. It suited him too much. 

Connor glanced back at Gavin, who was still watching him closely, brows knit together with worry, or perhaps it was irritation, Connor couldn’t quite tell, he just hoped it was the former.

That was the moment that Connor selfishly decided that he was glad Gavin had crashed his car. 

As bad as that sounded, if Gavin had never crashed his car, then perhaps Connor would have never reunited with him.

Gavin crashing his car had bought them some time. How much? Connor wasn’t so sure, but it was at least a day or two before they inevitably ended up back on the road again.

It meant he had a few extra days with Gavin while they were stranded in fucking Iowa in the middle of snowy weather that was inevitably going to get worse.

A few extra days. That’s all Connor ever really hoped for.

Each time he fell to sleep with Gavin near, he hoped that when he woke up, he got to spend just a little while longer with his companion. Just a few more days to learn new things about him, just a few more days to see that smile & to try to make him laugh.

Just a few more days to love him. That’s all he really wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Wish You Were Here](https://open.spotify.com/track/7aE5WXu5sFeNRh3Z05wwu4?si=c9HC8FwISa6P_X7j72_yPg) by Pink Floyd is the song that Gavin sings to Connor!


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin's pain gets too much to ignore & the boys end up in another motel together. Stuck in such a small place with one another, the emotions run high...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick shoutout to Quilty, for taking the time & effort to draw [this](https://64.media.tumblr.com/52f4e3d102310d7719af14b708064735/a6e2fde2ed1f73e1-ec/s1280x1920/30b5912ef9c573f26defbbf4c0247e4f496f3eea.png) piece of fanart of Gavin in the music store from the previous chapter! I'm still so in love with all of the tiny details, from the guitar to the bruises, to the frost on the windows! Thank you so much!
> 
> Happy reading<3

_‘Remember not our faulty pieces, remember not our rusted parts. It’s not the petty imperfections that define us, but the way we hold our hearts’_

_~ Nine, La Dispute_

Gavin fucking knew that eventually, he’d have to cave. Eventually, he was going to tell Connor that, yeah, they should do what Connor suggested & get a motel for a few nights so he could rest.

If his car wasn’t still being repaired, then he would have more than happily continued driving towards Detroit, but there was no way they could spend a third fucking night on that couch in the mechanic’s garage.

After their time at the music store, after Connor had bought Gavin that guitar, after Gavin promised to play again for him sometime soon when he was a little less injured, they headed back to the mechanic. They spent another night not sleeping, not really talking. Yet again, they were out for breakfast & wandering around the town.

Gavin couldn’t fucking take it, the snow, the tiny town with the same few shitty stores, the pain, it was driving him fucking insane.

That was how they ended up in a motel that was just off the main junction that’d take them into the next city. It was a pretty far walk from the mechanic, but they didn’t have any other options for places to stay & Gavin was fucking done with that uncomfortable couch.

Their backpacks were at the foot of the bed with Gavin’s guitar in its flimsy fabric bag rather than a solid case propped against the wall. 

Gavin had spent the last three hours flicking through the channels on the TV, sitting on the bed with his back resting against the headboard, his free hand propped behind his head. Meanwhile, Connor had been sitting at the tiny desk in the corner, quietly drawing to himself. 

He didn’t speak, didn’t offer so much as a huff of an amused laugh at Gavin’s bitching about how garbage reality TV was on one of the five channels he could choose from.

His choice was reality TV, commercials, the news, more fucking shitty, terribly acted out TV or a shopping channel where you could call in & bid on jewelry. 

“Hey, Con? Think I’d suit pearls?”

Nothing.

“Hey, Con?”

Nothing.

Gavin flicked to the reality TV again, managing to watch it for a whole five fucking seconds before groaning & switching over to the news channel instead.

“Hey, Con? You’re on the news, look!”

That caught his attention.

Connor’s head snapped up from where he was sketching, eyes darting to the television screen with a clear fear sitting in them. When he realised that Gavin was lying & was just trying to get his attention, Connor shifted in his seat to narrow his eyes into one of the most genuine glares Gavin had ever seen on him.

Shit.

“That wasn’t fucking funny!” Connor spat out, slamming his hand down onto the desk to place his pen down rather angrily as he stood himself up in the same motion. He then marched over to Gavin, holding his left hand out, palm up. “Remote.”

Shit, had he ever heard Connor swear like that before? He couldn’t remember, but ultimately decided he liked how it sounded.

“Why?”

“You’ve lost TV privileges.”

“Who are you, my mother?”

“Worse. I’m your friend & you scared me. So hand me the remote.”

_Friend._

So they were not just two strangers now?

The look on Connor’s face made Gavin want to just burst out fucking laughing. He had one hand on his hip, his other hand out waiting for the remote & was tapping his foot impatiently on the floor. His brows were pinched together, honey eyes narrowed into a rather irritated glare.

He looked so serious. Over a fucking TV remote.

Gavin was about to cave with a roll of his eyes & a sigh, but right as he was about to gently slap the remote into Connor’s open palm, his eyes flickered down to the extended hand, seeing a number written across it.

_What the-_

His brows pinched together into a deep frown as he looked over the number. He dropped the remote in favour of bringing his hand up to gently wrap around Connor’s wrist to hold it in place, eyes flickering from the number, up to his companion’s face.

The last three digits were smudged & the number was faded, the black pen it was once written in was now a sort of off-bluish shade, but Gavin knew that number better than he knew his own.

He had that number memorised for fucking years.

Sure, the last three digits were blurred, but it was way too much of a coincidence that this man had _Tina’s_ number written on his hand at the same time as being with Gavin.

His mind was already working a mile a minute, that paranoia that came along with his anxiety already coming up with a hundred & one scenarios on why the fuck he had Tina’s number written on his hand. None of them were good.

_Calm the fuck down, Gavin, stop jumping to conclusions._

“Why-” Gavin had to pause in favour of clearing his throat, swallowing around the lump that was forming there in the hopes of getting his sentence out without his growing nerves making his voice waver. “Why do you have this number on your hand?”

He gently shook Connor’s wrist, as though to gesture to the number like Connor didn’t know exactly what it was that he was talking about.

His companion faltered for a moment, a look of nervousness washing over his features as he tried to tug his arm away, but Gavin’s grip didn’t falter.

Connor opened his mouth, then closed it again, then opened it again, looking like a fucking goldfish, fighting with himself over what it was that he was supposed to say.

“Tell me, Connor!” Gavin spat with a little more hostility than he had intended as he let go of his companion’s hand by shoving it towards him as he tried to stand up. He stood a little too quickly however, & stumbled slightly as his vision momentarily blacked out from the blood rushing to his head.

He felt two gentle hands immediately grip his upper biceps, grip tightening as Gavin’s knees wobbled slightly.

Even when Gavin’s anger that hid his nerves took over, Connor was still there trying to be sure that he didn’t fall.

Connor was still trying to _help_.

“I-I got a lift from a lady, she- she said she was looking for her friend. Gavin-” Connor’s hands fell back to his sides as Gavin shrugged his shoulders in an attempt to get him off. A defeated look washed over the man as he took a slow step back. “-I’ve already asked, but are you in trouble?”

“Why the fuck do you care?!” Gavin yelled as he threw his hands in the air, the action causing Connor to flinch ever so slightly. It was only a tiny motion from the man, but it was still enough to have Gavin’s stomach twisting up into uncomfortable knots as the realisation settled in that Connor thought he was going to hit him.

Gavin would know, sudden motions had him slightly flinchy too.

Despite the clear nervousness that the man was feeling, it didn’t stop him from shouting back, “Because! Because she had a cop badge & she perfectly fucking described you, Gavin!” He then poked a finger at Gavin’s chest & if he wasn’t mistaken, he was doing exactly what Gavin did whenever he got anxious.

He used his anger to hide it.

Before he had the chance to even think about what he was going to say next, Connor continued, “Five foot nine, brown hair, scar on the nose, looks like a fucking asshole! That’s you, isn’t it?!”

Connor only paused to draw in a shaky breath, then he carried on, “She took me to where we watched that movie, so I could find your stupid necklace! After, I went back to the motel & I was going to tell you that the cops were looking for you, b-but you were gone! Because y-you fucking left me without even telling me first!”

For a moment, Gavin had taken up looking at the floor just so he didn’t have to look at the hurt in Connor’s face, but the moment the man said that last line, Gavin’s head snapped up to look at him. 

His glare was immediately softened out slightly as he saw the glassy look that had washed across those big puppy eyes that Connor had. 

Connor had no fucking idea what Gavin had done, what he was capable of, or why. All he knew was that a cop was looking for him & for some unknown fucking reason, Connor’s instincts were to tell Gavin & to keep him safe, rather than tell the cops where he was.

Why would anyone look out for him like that?

As he looked into those eyes, there was such an obscure type of sadness sitting in them.

It wasn’t a generic sadness, like if he watched an emotional movie or heard a sad song. No, it was something else entirely.

It sort of reminded Gavin of a word Tina had taught him after she spent a year in Brazil.

‘Saudade’.

Tina had told him it was a sort of nostalgic longing to be close to something or someone that was gone or too distant. Like being homesick for something you won’t get back.

Connor’s sadness looked a little like that. Like when Gavin left him, he was reminded of everyone else he must have left behind before hopping into Gavin’s car.

It was like a sadness that looked like he was longing for something he didn’t even have.

There was a part of Gavin that got a small sense that maybe _he_ was that something.

What the fuck was Gavin supposed to say? How was he supposed to somehow make it better when he had optionally chosen to leave Connor alone in a different fucking state?

He wasn’t so sure he could make it better.

He wasn’t so sure why he wanted to.

Finally, Gavin murmured, “She’s not the cops, Con.”

Emotions were bubbling around them, like storm clouds brewing, lightning crackling through the darkness & lighting up the surrounding area every single time they touched, no matter how small.

Gavin knew he wasn’t properly equipped to handle such a storm, not when his foundations were too weak to withstand the strength of it. So for now? He figured he’d buy himself some time by focusing on what started their heated conversation, not where it was heading.

When all Connor had to give him was a puzzled look, Gavin sighed as he slowly sank down so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He brought his hands up to scrub over his face, immediately regretting it as the motion sent stinging pains from his nose all across his fucking face, radiating across his cheeks & up along his head.

 _“Fuck.”_ He groaned quietly against where he was holding his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.

Fuck.

Tina was looking for him.

_Tina was fucking looking for him._

Of course she was. Why wouldn’t she? Gavin just up & left her. He left their cat, their home, their life. He ran away.

All because of what happened with Elijah, what _he_ did to Elijah. All because he had too much fucking anger at his father for the hell he had tormented him & his brother with for fucking years. 

There was just so much fucking hurt, so much ire in his body that it had consumed whatever sense of normality Tina had tried so desperately to give to him.

She tried constantly, every single fucking day, to help give Gavin a normal life, a sense of comfort, home, familiarity. Everything that he never got as a kid. 

She helped him with the name changing process, helped him put his name down on the lease to their apartment, she gave him the _home_ that he never fucking got as a kid.

They decorated it together how Gavin wanted to. She gave him that sense of control that he craved without admitting it. She got him their cat so he’d always have a companion when she wasn’t there, she helped pay for his driving lessons so he didn't have to rely on her for lifts to & from place to place.

She helped piece Gavin back together.

Yet he still ran away.

Why was he so adamant on running away? On hiding & breaking anything that was good?

Perhaps his mother really was right, all those years ago when he was just a little kid, on his birthday when he got nothing. When she told him that there was just something broken inside of him. That he could never have nice toys or nice things, because he would always break them.

That a thing like him didn’t deserve kindness because all he did was sabotage it.

Then she left. Left him & Elijah with their dad. Because however he raised them, she felt they deserved it.

They were just fucking kids.

Tears welled in Gavin’s eyes & he hadn’t even noticed that his breathing had picked up, that his chest was heaving faster & faster as he kept his face pressed against his hands to hide away from the world. 

As his memories taunted him, reminded him of all of his hurt, for who knows how long, he completely forgot that he was in the middle of talking to Connor. For a few moments, he completely fucking forgot that the man was even there. That he was in a motel room & not back hiding in his bedroom on his birthday all those years ago.

For a few long moments, he was trapped in his own head.

But before he could get completely trapped, before padlocks were latched onto the bars that he was stuck behind, only for the keys to be thrown away, a soft voice broke through the noise.

“-Vin? Gav…? Hey, can I touch you?” 

_Please don’t._

Gavin shrugged then nodded against his hands as he tried to swallow down his emotions, his teeth grit together so fucking tightly that he could already feel it in his jaw.

Ever so gentle hands wrapped around his wrists, applying just enough pressure to indicate that he was trying to pry them from his face. He complied, letting them fall from his face along with the tears that he was trying desperately to keep at bay.

Gavin’s eyes flickered up from his lap to glance at the man that was now crouched in front of him, before looking back to their hands again.

With tears falling down his cheeks, with his breath shaky & continuously getting caught in his throat, making it almost impossible for him to calm his breathing down, he watched as Connor slowly slid his hands from Gavin’s wrists to his hands, holding them both tightly in his own.

So tightly, as though if he were to let go, if his grip wasn’t so tight that his knuckles were probably turning white, that Gavin would just vanish.

That his foundations would fall down & all that would be left was rubble.

“Hey, you…” He heard the man murmur in a voice that was barely above a whisper, but it was lacking any judgement, only an ever so gentle compassion filled his tone. “Wanna follow my breathing with me?”

Why was he asking?   
  
The fact he asked had a soft, shuddered laugh leaving him, yet Gavin found himself nodding his head & watching so closely as his companion drew in deep breaths through his nose, holding them for a moment before exhaling through his mouth.

Connor repeated the process over & over at the same time as his thumbs began to rub soothing little circles on Gavin’s hands as he held them, gently coaxing him into following the breathing routine.

“You don’t have to tell me… But if it’d help, I’m here. If not, that’s fine too.” 

_‘I’m here’._

Slowly, Gavin found that his chest wasn’t heaving for air so much anymore & his palms didn’t feel so clammy. His heart wasn’t thudding in his chest & his lungs didn’t feel like they were going to collapse.

“I’m- I’m sorry, I’m- I-” Gavin tried, he really did fucking try, to force the words out, but even if he wasn’t on the verge of hyperventilating anymore, his tongue still felt heavy in his mouth. The only words his mind kept repeating for him to say were ‘I’m sorry’, like it was his fault for his panic, like he needed to apologise for it & justify it with a valid reason as to why it happened.

Old habits die hard, he supposed.

Apologising for something that he couldn’t help, or wasn’t his fault, because it was so fucking ingrained in him, even now, to apologise for his own mental health when it acted up, because it meant the consequences for it wouldn’t be as severe.

“Why are you apol- Never mind. It’s okay. Hey, y’hear me, Gav? It’s okay.” Connor murmured ever so softly & Gavin latched onto that gentle voice as a focus point to guide him through the ‘I’m sorry’s that kept swirling around his head. He used it as a way to guide him back to before his past crept up on him just to play cruel little tricks on him whenever it got bored. 

Connor had met Tina. Without even realising it.

Tina was looking for him.

“She’s- Y’know how I talk to someone o-on the phone sometimes? That-” Gavin’s shaky hands moved out of Connor’s grip so he could turn the man’s left hand palm up to point to the smudged writing scrawled there. “-that’s her number. Her name’s Tina.”

“Oh yeah?” Connor offered an ever so gentle smile, his whiskey eyes sparkling beneath the lighting from the window, warm like honey. They softened around the edges & his hands were easily malleable in Gavin’s grip.

He knew what the man was doing. He was trying to ease his anxieties by gently trying to get Gavin to speak about something that he wanted to, about something that he could focus on rather than focusing on what had dragged him into an almost-panic attack in the first place.

“I think she… I think she’s worried. She’s a cop, but-” Gavin shrugged, mindlessly playing with Connor’s fingers as he stared down at them rather than getting lost in those pretty eyes of his. “-she’s just good. A cop. But not _the_ cops, does that make sense?”

“Yeah.”

Gavin slowly let go of his companion’s hands & when he did, Connor eventually stood from where he was crouched in front of him & instead sat down beside him, their thighs brushing against one another. 

After a few moments of silence, eventually, Connor murmured, “My dad’s a cop. Lieutenant, actually. But…”

There was a sort of hesitancy to Connor’s voice, his sentence just sort of trailing off as he stared into Gavin’s eyes. For a moment, those pretty brown eyes flickered across Gavin’s face, dropping to his lips for just a second before he averted them to look at the shitty painting of a wild west scene that was hung on the wall in front of them in a tacky, fake gold frame.

Gavin understood what that ‘but’ meant, though. It was, ‘he’s a cop, but he won’t come after me’ type of ‘but’. It was a ‘he’s a good cop, I’m not a good person, so we can’t see each other’ type of ‘but’.

Gavin knew all too well what that felt like & it fucking hurt. 

It hurt more than anything else he could think of when he dwelled too much on the fact he couldn’t possibly keep Tina close anymore, because she was a good cop & if she knew what he had done, then she would be a bad cop to ignore the justice system in favour of their friendship.

In the same regard, Gavin got a small feeling that Connor must have done something too, something so terrible that it kept him away from his father, whatever state he may be in. Because how could Connor let his father be a good man, if he was a bad one?

“You should call her, let her know you’re okay.”

“Okay.” Gavin agreed before he even realised that he had.

So he did just that.

Connor had taken the remote & had put it just out of reach, clearly still salty that Gavin had scared him into thinking he was on the news. An almost-panic attack didn’t warrant forgiveness for being a dick. 

It was actually rather cruel, come to think of it. Not just him pretending Connor was a headlining news story, but the remote. 

It had a slight smile tugging at his lips for just a second, that Connor would give as good as he got.

His companion knew that he couldn’t get up without maximum effort, that he had finally found the perfect position where the pain was least noticeable. So if he wanted the remote, then he’d have to actively sabotage his own momentary comfort for it.

Then again, it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to doing that with everything else in his life anyway.

Gavin procrastinated phoning Tina once Connor was back sitting down for an awfully long time by scrolling through old photos & reminiscing over memories of them & their cat. But even his phone decided to betray him in the form of needing to be charged.

With a frustrated groan, Gavin finally forced himself up from where he had taken up being slouched against the headboard, slowly flicking his legs over the edge of the bed again. This time, he wouldn’t get up too quickly.

For a moment, he had to put his phone in his lap to grip the edge of the bed beside his legs, head bowed as he waited for the world to stop fucking spinning & for his side to stop hurting.

He knew that getting booted in already damaged ribs was going to take a toll on him, but shit did it hurt with no painkillers. At least when he was panicking, he was a little too distracted to fucking feel it.

Once the black splodges faded out from the outskirts of his vision, Gavin finally raised his head, blinking a few times before he slowly stood to promptly make his way to his bag, stifling his little limp the best he could.

There was still a strange sort of tension in the air & he couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

Connor had calmed him from his almost-panic, he had told him that the cops were not looking for him, only his friend, so surely that meant Connor shouldn’t be so weirdly quiet. Sure, he was always quiet, but this quiet had a weight to it. It sat in the air like smog in a city. 

At first, he thought that perhaps it was because Connor was worried, but if clearing up the stuff with Tina still had the air feeling _that_ heavy, obviously there was something else.

Gavin didn’t know what or how to ask.

Why did he care?

Instead, he just got his charger from his bag, plugged his phone into the outlet near the bed & slouched against the side of it & the wall as he called Tina.

His companion was clearly busy brooding & drawing in his little corner, so Gavin could buy some time from their inevitable argument by telling his best friend that he wasn’t dead. He probably should have done that after promising to call her after his car accident… But forgot. 

He forgot because he was so caught up with polaroids & acoustic guitars.

He forgot because he was so caught up with a mysterious man & all that he was. 

The phone had been ringing for barely a few seconds before Tina was already picking up.

_“You fucking asshole! You piece of shit, I fucking hate you! You promised you’d call, you motherfucking, goddamn fu-”_

“Hey, T..” Gavin rasped after holding the phone slightly away from his ear so her shrill shouting wouldn’t wriggle its way right into his brain & give him another fucking headache after he only just got rid of the last.

It was only when her sentence fell short & he heard the distinct sound of a choked up sob that he held the phone back properly against his ear using his shoulder, still staying slouched between the bed & the wall.

It was a tiny space & he felt safe.

_“You’re okay, right, Gav? You didn’t like, die & not tell me, right? You promised to tell me if you-” _

“I’m okay. I didn’t- T, Jesus, I didn’t do _that_. Look, I just- I got caught up with something, that’s all. Snow on the roads, car trouble, nothin’ too serious.” He murmured & in a way, he supposed he wasn’t exactly lying. 

If he told himself that enough, then perhaps he wouldn’t feel so guilty.

One of Gavin’s hands disappeared into his pocket to pluck out the little polaroid he had of Connor. He twirled it mindlessly around his fingers for a moment before flipping it over to look at it properly again, eyes memorising every tiny detail. Every freckle, the alignment of his perfect teeth, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

He heard Tina’s sigh of relief, heard her rustling & before she could reply, he was already beating her to it, “Hey, T? Uh… You at work?”

He knew she wasn’t. But he needed to know if she was going to lie to him or not.

_“Nope. Got a two week holiday.”_

“What, uh, what you gonna do with it? Gonna go anywhere nice? Leave the cat with the weird old lady who loved me from next door & do somethin’?” He pried, refusing to acknowledge the way he saw Connor’s head raise & glance his way through his peripheral vision.

_“Gav? What’s going on with you, huh? I don’t know what I’m gonna do, alright? I dunno.”_

“Yes you fucking do, Tina, don’t lie to me.” Gavin snapped before he could swallow down his anger. He had picked up the phone with every intention of just talking, because getting into an argument with the only fucking person who knew how to handle his shit wasn’t what he wanted.

Tina was the only one who refused to let him push her away to the point of no return. 

But he just kept pushing.

_“Gavin! What- Fuck you, Gav, you just up & left me! You promise to call & then you don’t, you take a fucking decade to reply to my goddamn text messages, you scare the fucking shit out of me, you’re obviously lying about being okay & you-” _

Tina cut her ranting off with an audible sigh & Gavin could just picture her in his head, rubbing at her head with her thumb & forefinger, as though she could alleviate the tension & ever growing headache known as Gavin fucking Reed.

_“-I’m sorry… That wasn’t fair of me.”_

To be honest, it was more than fair. She owed him a hell of a lot more than just a few seconds long speech. She deserved to punch him in the face, to shove & scream at him. Because he put her through hell & fuck knows the sheer panic he’d feel if the roles were reversed.

Somehow, he had never thought of it like that before. If it were Tina who had up & left, he knew damn well that he’d go searching for her too.

“Yeah, well… Stop looking for me, Tina.” Gavin murmured as he flicked the polaroid he was playing with onto the bed, using that same hand to run through his hair with a frustrated little sigh. “I left for a reason.”

_“Wha- Gav- No. Wait, how do you know I’m looking for you? Gav, just let me see you… Please.”_

“No.”

 _“Please, Gavin!”_

There was so much hurt in her voice, it crackled & Gavin could hear the way she was struggling to hold her tears back. Whenever Tina got emotional, she struggled to hide those powerful feelings from her voice & even through an imperfect phone line connection, they were unmissable.

They broke his fucking heart. 

But if Tina saw him, she’d try to drag him back to their home state. 

She’d pick up all of his broken pieces all over again, even if she cut her hands in the process. 

She’d beg him, she’d plead with him to just stay, to come home, that it’d be okay, that they could fix everything. She’d tell him that she understood, that it was okay, that she wouldn’t hold his decisions against him.

He couldn’t hurt her like that.

So with a voice that wavered, a barely there whisper that very nearly got caught in his throat & threatened to choke him, Gavin just about forced out, “Bye, T.”

As he pulled the phone from his ear, he could hear her all but pleading out the word, ‘wait’ over & over, but before his guilt could swallow him whole, Gavin pressed that little red button. 

He all but launched his phone across the room, ripping it from the charger cable in the process.

More tears slipped down his cheeks & he had to tug his sleeves over his hands to wipe them away along with wiping his nose with a sniffle before he even thought about pushing himself up.

Yet again, he found his hands shaking as his bleary eyes focused for a moment on the polaroid on the bed.

He didn’t even have a chance to tell her about him. Too busy burning bridges.

Deciding he didn’t want to have his breakdown in front of Connor, Gavin slowly pushed himself up in favour of having a shower. 

He pretended he didn’t notice the way Connor went to stand up when he stumbled ever so slightly as a tiny dizzy spell hit him, but sat back down when he saw Gavin would be fine.

With an irritated sigh, which did absolutely nothing to alleviate the weight that was pressing in on his chest, Gavin bit down on his lower lip, which only served to send sharp pains shooting along it as his teeth sank into the split that was still sitting there.

He limped towards the bathroom door, opening it just barely half a centimetre before pausing as he heard an ever so quiet, “You had no right to do that to her.”

He let his hand rest on the handle as he bowed his head to count backwards from twenty in his head in favour of focusing on pulling himself together.

Today was proving to be a rather difficult day, in that regard.

Perhaps it was the pain coursing through him like a little fire he couldn’t extinguish that was making him so much snappier than usual, or maybe he was done with letting people in.

_Don’t pick a fight with Connor, don’t pick a fight with Connor, don’t pick a fight with-_

Once he got to zero, Gavin looked over his shoulder to the man whose name was always floating around his head belonged to, a warning glare sitting on his features.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” His voice was low, dangerous, almost. As though he were talking to a shitty drunk guy, ready to get his ass kicked, not his fucking hitchhiking companion who deserved better than that.

Gavin slowly turned to face Connor properly, his hands dropping to his sides.

That was the thing with anger. Once he started, it was hard to stop. Once he sabotaged something that he knew would hurt deep within his chest when the fire in his veins finally subsided, he’d sabotage something else, too. Anything to keep his anger out & protect himself from the inevitably hurt that’d follow. 

Usually, that came in the form of burning the bridge of the first person who tried to help him, tried to talk sense into him or help him cool off.

There was a sort of war within Gavin. The part of him that knew he should be better fighting against the part of him that wanted to shove everyone far, far away, keeping them at an arm’s length to keep himself safe.

The thought of fighting with Connor had something uncomfortable twisting into his gut that somehow felt worse than the dull ache in his lower spine. But the anger in him told him it was a good thing, that the man being mad at him meant it’d be easier on him when-

When they inevitably parted ways.

That was the hurt that he just wasn’t prepared for. The shitty light at an awfully long tunnel with one too many state fucking lines.

There were not so many state lines left between Iowa & Michigan.

Eventually, the man in question looked up from his designated corner of the motel room with what was first that glare he tried to make look genuine, but didn’t quite suit his face. Then, it morphed into something that was a little bit softer, but still clearly irritated.

“You heard me. I don’t know what else you want me to say…”

“Oh don’t stop on my accord, Con, by all means, tell me what you fucking think!” Gavin spat out, his voice a little louder than he had initially intended it to be.

So much for not picking a fight with Connor.

For a moment, the man was frozen in place at the raised voice, but was quick to recollect himself & flip his little sketchbook closed. “You were an asshole to her, Gavin! She- She clearly cares about you so fucking much that she’s searching for you, in the middle of this shitty weather no less, & you pushed her away! Why do you do that?!”

_Because I’m scared!_

“Well that’s none of your fucking business!” Gavin bit back which only caused Connor to slam his pen back down as he marched right up to Gavin & for a split second, he was so convinced that the man was going to throw a punch, that he tipped his head ever so slightly to the right.

But knuckles colliding with his cheekbone never came.

He fluttered his eyes back open from where he had screwed them tightly shut, bracing for the impact that never came & the regret was instant.

Gavin caught sight of the sheer hurt that washed across Connor’s face as the man realised what it was that he was expecting to happen.

“I’m not going to hit you.” Connor whispered in a barely there, almost shaky tone, a stark contrast from his earlier raised voice.

_‘I’m not going to hit you.’_

Before Gavin could stop himself, that pesky little question was already leaving his lips.

_“Why?”_

“Because!” Connor snapped. From a whisper to a shout. From the gentle smell of rain, to an angry storm. From a mouse, to a lion. 

His companion threw his hands in the air before dropping them back to his sides as the look of hurt that was plastered across his face shifted into anger, only to return to hurt again. “Because, I like you, Gavin! Because I know what it’s like to have someone hurt you when you’re so sure they wouldn’t. Which _you_ , just did to _her!_ Because- Just _because!”_

In a way, he supposed Connor was making a valid point. He had no right to hurt Tina in the way that he had. But if he let that settle in… It’d hurt. It’d hurt like a bullet to the stomach & he wasn’t strong enough to pull through that type of pain.

“I-” To be honest, Gavin didn’t even have a clue as to what it was he was going to say. Not like it mattered, because the moment he opened his mouth to speak, Connor carried on.

“Do you understand how much it hurts? To see you hurt? It hurts more than- More than- Fuck, I don’t know!” Connor yelled, his hands coming up to clutch at the front of the sweater Gavin was wearing.

Perhaps if Connor shook him hard enough, he could rattle some sense into him.

With his emotions so raw, Gavin could have sworn that everything, all that Connor felt, everything he had to say, was all sitting in those pretty brown eyes that looked as though they were a little too big for his face.

Their faces were barely an inch apart again. He could smell the slight hint of mothballs on Connor’s jacket, the cigarette smoke that clung to the fleece on it just because the man spent so much time so close to him, the smell of Gavin’s bad habits starting to rub off on him.

Similar to how he had spent so much time around Connor, that he was ultimately convinced the man’s smile was fucking contagious.

Sometimes, Gavin found himself mourning over the fact he didn’t have something like that to offer right back.

Connor’s smile was a deadly fucking disease, he had decided. The second you caught it, you were done for. 

He was done for. Patient fucking zero.

Every time they caught each other’s eye contact, Gavin didn’t glare so much like he used to. Well, he would, but it was quick to soften around the edges & he’d feel that tiny upturn at the corners of his lips no matter how hard he tried to fight against it.

There was no cure for it, either. 

Worst part? He wasn’t even so sure that he hated it all that much.

So even as the worst parts of him tried to convince him to sabotage what he was steadily building with the man opposite, the good in him kept fighting back.

Because the more time he spent so close to Connor, the harder it was to fight against the need to not drag the man down with him.

His eyes flickered down to the hands that were so tightly gripping the front of his sweater & in that very moment, he decided that yeah, Connor could leave him black & blue. Connor could have thrown a punch because he knew damn fucking well that he deserved it, yet he’d still adore that stupid fucking smile. 

It was a heavy realisation, now Connor was back, that he wanted to have him at his side through to the bitter end.

He wanted… He wanted more. Selfishly so.

What a terrible thing.

That thought alone had the guilt twisting inside his stomach a little more harshly, his necklace weighing a little more heavily, as he was reminded that he was the one that had kicked Connor away in the first place.

Now his brain was trying to convince him to do it all again.

“-Not even fucking listening to me!”

_I’m sorry, it’s just my head is a mess & I’m realising that you’re the only one who makes anything make sense & I hate it. I don’t know how to do this whole ‘nice’ thing, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I don’t know how to- _

Gavin’s eyes drifted back up to meet Connor’s, them narrowing into a glare as the man continued to shout in his face, letting all of those emotions that he had so clearly bottled up come pouring right back out again.

_-to be normal. To be whatever the fuck it is that you want._

“Don’t tell me that you don’t fucking care, because I know that you do, Gavin! You care about her & you care about me, so stop fucking pushing us away!”

Gavin just fucking smiled. See? There it was! He couldn’t fucking help it & fuck, he tried. He tried to fight it, he tried to push it down & argue back. 

He tried, he really did.

Gavin tried to say he didn’t deserve their compassion. He tried to say if Connor knew what he had done, then he wouldn’t want to be anywhere near him. He tried to bite back. Every inch of his body demanding that he fight back.

But the more he tried, the more he felt himself being torn apart at the seams. So he let that stupid tiny smile tug at the corners of his lips even as Connor’s frown deepened.

“Why the fuck are you smiling?!”

_Because you’re standing up for what you believe in. Because you’re not backing down just because I shouted. Because you know my ‘I don’t care’s are total bullshit. Because-_

Before he could kick himself for being so stupid, before he could reprimand himself for giving in to a feeling that was too fucking fleeting in the grand scheme of it all, before he could even stop the stupid words from tumbling from his lips, they were already out there.

“You’re just so fuckin’... You’re just so fucking beautiful, man. Even when you’re angry.”

Worst part? They rolled off his tongue almost as easily as Connor’s name did.

Gavin was fucked. Arrow to the chest, royally fucked.

He meant those words. He really did. 

He meant them in a way that he had never felt before, in a way that it was difficult to explain. He meant them not just on the physical front, but for everything that Connor was.

For the fears that he was so sure looked a whole lot like his own, for the scars that were hidden beneath layers of clothes & the ugly stories that likely went along with them. For the laughter that left Connor & the way he smiled at waitresses in the diner. For the way he spoke in a hushed tone, like what he was saying was a secret, for the way he shouted in Gavin’s face, like what he was saying was so fucking important & if Gavin missed it, surely the sky would cave in & the world would implode.

For the fact they were practically strangers, but it didn’t matter, not with fates like theirs.

For all that he was, he was so _fucking_ beau-

From his mind running a mile a fucking minute, everything came to a crashing halt. His thought train derailed, colliding with the barrier that was supposed to signal for it to go no further, at the same time as a pair of soft lips pressed right up against his own.

Gavin’s eyes widened for a moment in surprise, but they were quick to flutter shut & after a second's hesitation, he gently kissed back.

He kissed back before he could pull away & shatter yet another thing that could have been.

For the first time in a long time, for just a few moments, his mind fell oddly quiet. 

He focused on the way those soft lips moved against his own, the way Connor kissed slightly to the one side of his mouth in favour of avoiding causing anymore hurt to the split that was sat in his lower lip.

He focused on the way such a tiny action showed so much fucking compassion.

He focused on the way Connor was kissing him not just because there was an attraction there, but because there was a connection. There was a huge fucking difference.

A connection. One that was just two terrible pasts tangled up into one. A connection formed from a beaten man stumbling in front of a car that another beaten man was driving.

Not that the guy at the bar would have kissed Gavin; but if he did, if Gavin had the split in his lip prior to that, he knew damn well the man wouldn’t have taken the extra effort to kiss him slightly crooked just so he wouldn’t cause him pain.

But Connor did.

Because he cared, Connor cared so fucking much about Gavin like he deserved an ounce of the compassion he was supplying him with.

The man pressed ever so slightly closer, one of his hands moving up from where it was curled in Gavin’s sweater so he could gently cup his chin instead. Gavin followed lead, letting the man tilt his head up ever so slightly so he could deepen the kiss.

As he kissed back just as deeply, parting his lips to allow Connor to explore his mouth with his tongue, the shake of Gavin’s hands became a little too apparent.

He kept them at his sides, despite the way he wanted to cup Connor’s face, because he was afraid that if he could feel it, then so would Connor. He was afraid that if his companion noticed, he’d stop, worried that he had done something wrong.

But it was quite the opposite.

Slowly, Connor was the first to pull back, to rest his forehead against Gavin’s & Gavin didn’t dare flutter his eyes back open, not yet.

Just like when the man had hugged him after they were reunited, Gavin wasn’t going to stop until Connor did first. He would have continued to kiss him until he was blue in the face, until his lungs screamed at him for the air that they so desperately craved.

Because the moment the kiss was broken, so was the momentary bubble that protected him from the reality of the situation they were in.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“I don’t care.” Gavin whispered against Connor’s lips, cutting off whatever the man was going to say before he had the chance. Only then did Gavin ever so slowly flutter his eyes back open, leaning back the tiniest amount so he could properly look at Connor’s face.

His dark eyes sparkled ever so slightly, his features softened & the angry look that had scrunched up Connor’s features just a few moments ago had been completely ironed out. He kept his hand cupping Gavin’s chin, holding him close.

Gavin didn’t try to pull himself away.

There was just barely an inch of space between their bodies, there was no doubt in his mind that Connor would be able to feel the warmth radiating from him.

After a short silence of just admiring Connor’s features, Gavin finally murmured out that three lettered question again. “Why?”

“I wanted to shut you up before you said something you’d regret.”

_By doing something that you’ll regret instead?_

Gavin couldn’t help the little huff of breath that left his nose at that, it could have easily turned into a laugh, but his ribs ached far too much to warrant anything more than what he had given.

It was like the man just fucking knew he was quickly headed down his path of destruction & had done the one thing he knew damn well would stop the natural disaster known as Gavin to stop in his tracks.

He knew Connor wanted to say something more. Perhaps he wanted to say ‘I know you think you don’t deserve it, but I care’, or maybe it’d be ‘Stop hurting yourself so much in your own head for just a moment & let us have this’. 

Hell, it could have easily been ‘I told you I don’t want to lose you, guess we’re both fucked now’.

But a ‘shut up’ was just as good.

Thankfully, his little huff of a laugh was enough; because a lopsided smile graced Connor’s lips as he whispered, again, like it was a secret, like those words were for Gavin & Gavin alone, “Can I- Can I do it again?”

“What? Shout in my face?”

“No, Idiot.” Connor deadpanned, face turning stoic, an unimpressed look sitting in those whiskey eyes of his.

When Gavin just stared blankly at him, acting as though he didn’t know exactly what it was that his companion was asking of him, Connor finally relented his stare & ever so softly demanded, “Kiss me, you fucking asshole.”

So Gavin did.

Against his better judgement, against the little voice in his head telling him that it was a bad idea, that it couldn’t end well, that he shouldn’t drag Connor down with him, that this wouldn’t work & couldn’t last; for once in his life, Gavin ignored all of his hurt in favour of being a little fucking selfish.

 _Just this once,_ he told himself.

It was another lie. He was good at those.

He kissed Connor with a little more need than he did the first time around, one of those shaking hands coming up to brave wrapping around the man’s wrist that was connected to the hand that was still clutching onto the front of his sweater.

His companion seemed to match the sort of sparks of desperation that were buzzing between them as he pressed himself closer, in turn pressing Gavin up against the bathroom door that they were still standing in front of.

It all went downhill from there.

Literally.

Before he had turned to face Connor earlier, Gavin had already begun to push the door open, so it was clicked off of the latch.

So when Connor went to press him up against it, the man fully prepared to lean his full weight back against it, the door flung open & Gavin went tumbling backwards, breaking the kiss in the process.

His hand subconsciously clutched onto Connor’s wrist harder so as Gavin’s stumble turned into a fall, landing flat on his back on the bathroom floor with a rather loud, pained groan, Connor tumbled down on top of him. 

Pain shot down his shoulders, wrapping around his ribs.

His companion landed with his knees either side of Gavin’s hips, effectively straddling his lap as he stared down at him with clear shock on his face that so quickly morphed into a genuine worry.

“Gav? Gavin?! Are you okay? I’m so sorry, oh fuck, did you hit your head? Fuck, I can’t even kiss you properly, oh fu-” Connor had to cut the end of his sentence off as he coughed, tapping his chest & swallowing before his focus zeroed right back in on Gavin again as he caught his breath.

His head fucking _hurt._ He was pretty sure he had hit it back against the floor as he collided with it & his shoulder blades most definitely took the brunt of the fall. The impact slammed that pain he had just about managed to shake right back into his ribs again & his breath got caught up in his lungs.

It fucking hurt.

Gavin blinked a few times to shake the slight disorientation from his head & focused on the concerned face of his companion hovering over him.

 _“Fuck.”_ Was all he managed to groan out, the pain clear as day in his voice.

“I’m so fucking sor-”

“Shh…” Gavin made a little ‘quieten down’ gesture with his hand before dropping it gently onto Connor’s thigh, just above his knee.

Of fucking course the one good moment he had managed to get ruined, even when he hadn’t actively tried to sabotage it.

Perhaps the universe really did think he didn’t deserve it.

Connor shuffled forward ever so slightly so he was less on Gavin’s thighs & more so he was right on his fucking crotch as he leaned down at the same time so he could whisper against his lips, “Are you okay?”

“No.” Gavin whispered back. 

“Why, what hurts? Where- Let me help-” Connor’s whisper came out almost like a beg as two soft hands cupped Gavin’s face, tipping it this way & that, as though inspecting to be sure there was no extra damage. Then, one hand slid around to the back of Gavin’s head, presumably feeling for any blood, being sure he didn’t fucking crack his head open on the floor.

Which, would be just his luck. But if the relief on Connor’s face was anything to go by, he was alright on that front.

“Con-” Gavin rasped, his breath hitching in his throat as he grit his teeth together. The way Connor was leaning in close to inspect his face, it only served to have his ass rubbing _right over_ his fucking dick. “Con… Can you- Y’know… Get off m-my fucking dick? Please?”

His companion froze where he was feeling along the back of his head before his hands slowly fell away. Slowly, he sat himself back up straight with a clear blush spreading up along his cheeks & even dusting his nose. 

Then, almost as though it took a few seconds for the words to actually settle in, Connor practically jumped up & grabbed both of Gavin’s hands so he could help hoist him up off of the dirty bathroom floor.

A nervous, shy little laugh laced the tiny apology that left the man’s mouth, his head ducked as he tried to avert his eyes from meeting Gavin’s. 

In turn, a soft laugh left Gavin followed up by a shake of his head.

“I, uh, I guess this is my cue to take that shower I was planning on having, huh?” He murmured as a hand came to rub at the back of his neck in a sort of nervous manner. But along with even that tiny motion, came a wince & a sharp intake of air through his teeth as it sent stabbing pains through his ribs.

Connor must have caught onto it, because the moment he heard that sharp breath, his head was snapping up to look at Gavin, his hand coming up to cup his cheeks gently. 

His blush had faded & any lingering sparks from their kiss dissipated.

Before Gavin could protest, a gentle kiss was being pressed to his nose, causing it to scrunch up involuntarily, which earned him a sweet little smile from the man opposite.

“Okay… Okay, yeah…” Connor murmured almost reluctantly. His eyes drifted to the shower, then back to Gavin as he took a step back. “Take off your sweater.”

“Wha-”

“Take it off.”

For a few moments, Gavin just faltered, unsure exactly where this was going, seeing as the demand was less filled with lust & more so filled to the fucking brim with concern.

With furrowed brows, he crossed his arms as he gripped the base of his sweater, ready to tug it over his head, but paused before he could even get halfway as more of those sharp shooting pains stabbed their way through his ribs & side.

_Come on, Gavin, you fucking moron, its just a sweater._

He found himself having to take a few seconds to draw in deep breaths to try to breathe through the pain, but if he breathed in too deep, it hurt even more.

It sort of dawned on him just how much everything really did hurt.

Tears that were a natural bodily response to the sharp pains running through him, pricked in his eyes even as he tried to blink them away, looking to Connor with an almost helpless look sitting in his eyes that he didn’t even realise was there.

But Connor did & he picked up on it pretty fuckin’ quickly too.

Because before Gavin could try again, before he could cause more damage to whatever the fuck was already injured, Connor took the lead.

He heard the soft, “Let me help” that his companion had whispered as he stepped back up closer, gentle hands moving Gavin’s out of the way.

Then, as Connor’s fingers curled into the fabric at the base of Gavin’s sweater, he murmured, “Can you raise your arms up?”

“I-”

He wasn’t sure.

Sometimes, it really did feel like Connor was in his head, because before Gavin could even finish his sentence, he was already saying, “Okay… Let’s do it this way instead.” With that, Connor let go of the base of Gavin’s sweater & instead gently maneuvered his left arm forward so he could tug at Gavin’s sleeve.

Gavin met the man halfway & gently pulled his arm back against his body to get it out of the sleeve. Then they moved onto his right sleeve. Once his arms were out & back at his sides, Connor carefully pulled the sweater up & over Gavin’s head, his hair falling across his face as he did so.

Eyes carefully watched the way Connor didn’t look at his bare torso to begin with. He focused for a moment on neatly folding Gavin’s sweater in the same way he neatly folded his own clothes. He watched Connor place the sweater over the little cupboard that housed the scratchy motel towels before he turned back to face him.

When he did, his face fell.

It was clear as fucking day.

That little smile dropped, the corners of his lips turning down. The softness of his brow turned into a frown as they knit together. His eyes that were once soft widened ever so slightly as the care in them switched to a clear worry in a second flat.

If Connor would have seen this before, perhaps he wouldn’t have kissed him.

All Gavin could do was fucking stand there. Hands limp at his sides, chest rising & falling as pretty brown eyes raked over the visible evidence of why the smallest actions hurt so much.

Bruises stacked on top of bruises.

The ones that were once fading out, the ones he had sustained from a rather brutal fight two nights before he met Connor were replaced with new ones from his fight in the bar.

Purples & reds were splattered all along the one side of his ribs, creeping up just below his pectorals. Friction burn like marks scuffed his elbows & his shoulder blades. Fingerprint bruises left on his hips & on his neck, clear as day now his hoodie wasn’t in the way.

Scars littered his firm abs & stomach, some along his back, some on his arms. The worst of which were on one side of his chest & were hidden by a large raven tattooed in various shades of black & grey. Its wings were splayed as though mid flight, wrapped up in leaves & thorns. A little key sitting around its neck.

If Connor thought there was any beauty before, surely seeing the brutality of Gavin’s hostilities painted across his skin, the remnants of a past that haunted him, scarred forever in his flesh, would surely change his mind.

That raven was the only beautiful part of Gavin & the only reason it even existed was to hide the pain beneath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would adore to hear thoughts on these boys FINALLY kissing after all those close calls T.T Thanks so much for taking the time to read & leave any comments or kudos, they are appreciated to no end. I hope everyone is well<3


	10. The Taste Of Ink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin realises that Connor isn't about to run away just because he can see how much damage he's sustained. Rather, it's quite the opposite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this chapter taking longer to get out than I had initially intended, I had to do some reworks to be happy with it. I hope you enjoy it!   
> Thank you for the love so far on this story, it means a lot to see people enjoying it ;w;

Connor was fucked.

They both were.

Gavin didn’t kiss him, because kissing him meant he had something to lose. Connor had been holding off for the exact same reason.

A kiss meant something was there.

When something was there, it meant it could be taken away.

Before they kissed, they could have just fooled themselves into thinking it was nothing, that  _ they  _ were nothing. That the feelings were fucking nothing. They could fool themselves into thinking when they inevitably parted ways, it wouldn’t hurt so much, because how could it hurt to lose a stranger?

But a kiss pushed them from strangers, to companions, to something more.

To something that would hurt like fucking hell when it was gone.

Seeing those bruises right after that kiss? It only solidified the very thing that Connor was so scared of admitting.

That he was going to lose Gavin.

Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day, likely sooner rather than later, Gavin was going to slip right through his fingers.

It fucking terrified him.

Connor wasn’t entirely sure how long he had been staring at the shirtless man in front of him as his thoughts spiraled around his head, but when he snapped back to the present, he still didn’t drag his eyes away.

Gavin was breathtaking.

Yeah, breathtaking. Because he was convinced that he couldn’t breathe properly, that his throat was closing up & his chest felt heavy.

Or maybe that was just his sore throat.

But Gavin was just… perfectly imperfect.

All of the times that he had stretched & his shirt had rode up, all the times Connor had caught sight of his happy trail, all of the times he had wanted to see more, it was all right there in front of his face.

The way pale scars cut so clearly through olive skin, the way the muscles in his abs, chest & biceps were so fucking refined & visible.

The polaroid he took, the sketches he had created, the vision of him in his head, none of it would ever do the sight before him justice.

He fucking knew it was rude to stare, he knew he should probably look away. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He didn’t  _ want  _ to.

Oh dear. Oh dear indeed.

Nines was right, he really did love far too easily.

But the absolute work of art that stood before him was also washed in shades of reds & purples. Bruises along his ribs, painting his skin with violent little reminders of the man’s temper & the trouble that it got him in.

Connor knew the bruising was from the guy Gavin had told him about while they were sat in the music store, but he didn’t realise the extent of his injuries.

He didn’t realise just how severely Gavin was hurting.

The man hid it all so well, right up until his tipping point.

He did it until he couldn’t take it anymore. He did it & if the pain didn’t force his actions to be more sluggish, if he hadn’t have shown such clear discomfort on his face, then he likely would have continued to fool Connor into thinking that it wasn’t so bad.

“It’s nothi-”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Connor spat back before he could stop the words from leaving him. 

There was such a sad look sitting in Gavin’s eyes at his retort, it made Connor quick to soften out his features as he realised that his eyes were narrowed & his brows were pulled together in scrutiny.

By the way his companion dipped his head to stare at his feet, it was like Gavin thought that just because the hurt could be seen, he’d think twice about kissing him again.

He didn’t want Gavin thinking that he somehow thought different of him just because he could now see the extent of the damage.

Connor didn’t mean for his retort to come out so snappy. He was just… Scared. 

Gavin had told him previously that he should stop worrying about him, but he couldn’t fucking help it. From the moment he saw that Gavin was hurt, just by what he could see above the man’s clothes, he was worried.

But now? Every time he looked at the bruises, his stomach twisted up into knots. His heart sank a little further into his chest & he could feel his emotions making it tough for him to get his words out without them choking him up.

Gavin was  _ hurt  _ & he didn’t know how to fix him.

He wasn’t so sure that he could fix him.

Connor leaned in to plant a gentle kiss to Gavin’s forehead in the hopes of showing that he didn’t mean for his words to come out so harshly. He was just tired of hearing ‘it’s nothing’. 

It wasn’t nothing. Not to him.

Keeping his lips pressed to Gavin’s head for a few more moments, he murmured against his skin, “I’ll get the shower sorted.”

He had to fight off saying ‘You’ll be okay’ or ‘You’re still so fucking beautiful’. 

If he stayed by Gavin any longer, he’d cave & the words would tumble from his lips before he could catch them. So instead, he silently made his way to the shower to turn it on, giving it time to run so the water could heat up.

From there, he grabbed one of the not-so-soft motel towels, being sure to pick the cleanest looking one & hung it over the little hook beside the shower.

It was only after he checked the water to be sure it had warmed up enough & wouldn’t be too harsh on Gavin’s skin that he turned back to the man; who was still looking down at his feet, his hands fumbling with the button on his jeans. It was like he couldn’t quite decide if he wanted to take them off or not.

As he looked over the bruising again, Connor so desperately wanted to say more, the words being even more difficult to hold back than the last ones he kept to himself. He wanted to say, ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

But it wasn’t his place. 

He wanted to say, ‘How can I make you better?’

He so desperately wanted Gavin to speak to him. To tell him more. To open up, even if it was only a little bit.

But Gavin didn’t owe him anything. Especially not after already showing so much by just allowing Connor to help him out of his sweater.

So again, instead of speaking what was on his mind, Connor pushed those words aside.

He stepped up closer, placing a finger beneath his companion’s chin to ever so gently tip his head up so they could make eye contact. When he saw the sheer sadness sitting in those foggy, forested eyes, Connor murmured softly, “Would you like me to help with your jeans?”

There was no judgement in his tone, none on his face. 

Because at the end of the day, bruises or no bruises, Gavin was still the man that shared his pancakes with him, the man that perfectly split the blueberries so they’d have an even amount each. 

Scars or no scars, Gavin was still the man that took a polaroid of him when he wasn’t looking & looked at it like it was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. 

Troubles or no troubles, Gavin was still the man that hugged him so fucking tightly despite those clear injuries & kissed him back, even when they both agreed it was very likely a terrible, terrible idea.

Pain or no pain, Gavin was still… Gavin.

He was enough.

He would  _ always  _ be enough.

Even when Gavin fixed him with a look that first seemed as though he was going to try & bite back with a defensive retort about being fine, about being able to handle himself before it morphed into something a little less aggressive, Connor was patient.

He waited until Gavin just nodded instead & only then did he sink down onto his knees in front of his companion, that way, he could properly support his legs when he helped him out of his clothes.

The position had nerves beginning to slowly swim around the pit of his stomach, that nervous fight or flight instinct trying to kick in.

But that didn’t stop him from first getting Gavin out of his sneakers, raising his left leg with a hand behind his knee to support him, sliding the shoe off & then repeating the process with the right.

They always kept their shoes on.

Always ready to run, if they had to.

It was almost like they both knew that there might be a time where they just have to up & go.

It was sad, really.

Sad that even when Gavin was lying on the bed & flicking through the same five television channels, even when Connor was minding his own business & sketching away, they were always still in all of their clothes bar for Connor’s jacket which was resting on the end of his bed. 

They were always ready to just go. To run. To leave.

Their guards were always up.

“Tina told me that her missing friend had a raven tattoo on his chest.” Connor murmured softly as he got to work on getting the man out of his jeans. Nimble fingers unbuttoned them, then undid the zipper.

He peered up at Gavin with a gentle, half smile on his lips as the man looked back down to him, one of those calloused, bruised-knuckle hands coming to rest on Connor’s shoulder to steady himself. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He nodded, only breaking their eye contact so he could focus on carefully tugging Gavin’s jeans down to his ankles, maneuvering the man’s legs once again to help him to step out of them. “It’s really pretty.”

The raven was beautiful. Every line carefully inked into his skin, none of the shading looking too blocky or imperfect. It suited him, too. Like it was supposed to be there.

Once Gavin was out of all of his clothes bar his tight, black boxers & Connor had folded them all from where he was still on his knees in front of him, he tipped his head back just enough to look at his face once again.

Gavin murmured out the tiniest little ‘thanks’ & just like that, that was the end of another short lived conversation between them.

Then again, they always found most of their talking was done through actions rather than words. 

Just like how it was almost as though Gavin could tell that he was nervous about being on his knees in front of him, because before Connor could say anything, the man just gently held out his hand that was on Connor’s shoulder, offering to help him up instead.

Gavin didn’t want to take advantage of him. To use him. He didn’t want any of that.

A sort of guilt swam around Connor’s stomach for even thinking that there was a possibility of it, but the notion that everyone was out to hurt him was a tough one to shake.

That guilt amplified when he remembered what Gavin had said from their first night in sharing a motel room together. The night when Connor had straddled his hips, because he didn’t have money to spare & he just expected Gavin would take what he wanted.

_ ‘Don’t do this to yourself.’ _

It wasn’t about Gavin not wanting it. It wasn’t about the fact they were strangers. It was about how Connor was treating himself. It was about what  _ Connor  _ wanted.

Gavin, through all of the ‘I don’t care’s, actually fucking cared.

He was different.

Connor looked to the man’s hand, then to his face & after a deep breath followed up by an ever so slow exhale, he finally murmured, “Would you like me to help with the rest?” He gestured to Gavin’s boxers with one hand, eyes flickering to the shower, then back to his face.

There was no denying the sort of static that sat in the air between them. Those little thunderclouds crackling lowly with every movement. 

Even when Gavin shook his head & said that he was okay, even when Connor nodded once & took the man’s hand to help stand back up properly, that static-like energy still surrounded them.

It was an expectant sort of anticipation.

As though either Gavin was going to snap & bounce back into his closed off, defensive state, or Connor was finally going to crumble & snap at Gavin for being so stupid, for treating his life like it was nothing more than something he could just throw away.

It was like the air around them was just waiting, ready to pop this strange sort of bubble of quietness & understanding they had created together.

Gavin was just so… Connor wasn’t sure what the word for it was. He was quiet, but oddly so. So on show, yet so reserved. There was a visible tension in his broad shoulders, yet he seemed more at peace than ever before.

There were all those scars so visible, yet it still felt as though Connor was missing so fucking much.

He was both tense & calm. There, but not there at all. An oxymoron of the finest calibre.

Connor wasn’t so sure what to do with himself. He wanted to run his hands over every single scar & hear the stories behind them if Gavin was willing to tell. He wanted to press against those bruises to find where the damage was so he could give an estimated diagnosis.

He wanted to kiss over that raven tattoo. He wanted to ask if it meant something, he wanted to ask what Gavin’s necklace meant & why it was so fucking important.

He wanted to tell him that it’d all be okay. That he’d heal, even from the wounds that were not so visible.

But when he opened his mouth to speak, all that came out was an ever so quiet, “I’ll give you some privacy.” With it, he placed the rest of Gavin’s clothes with his shirt that was on the rack that housed the towels, then turned to head towards the open door.

But when he did, right as he was about to walk through the doorway & go back to sketching until Gavin was ready, a gentle hand flew out to grip onto his, stopping him in his tracks.

He froze in place, eyes roaming over the main room in which they were staying; scared that if he made a single movement or sound, Gavin would let go, that he would hide away again behind those defensive walls he was so fucking good at building up.

Connor didn’t want him to let go. He didn’t want to leave.

Then, in an ever so quiet, barely there voice, he heard Gavin murmur out one, tiny little word, yet it felt so heavy. Four letters, but four letters that meant so fucking much when coming from  _ that  _ mouth.

_ “Stay.” _

So he did.

* * *

Gavin wasn’t sure what had urged him to say that one little word, but the moment he did, Connor turned around & he didn’t think twice.

He stepped forward as his hands found their way into Connor’s shirt so he could tug the man closer, their lips meeting in the middle.

He felt the way his companion kicked the door gently half shut behind him, still leaving that little gap that Gavin assumed was to help calm his nerves. Having that  _ exit right _ there if he felt as though he needed it.

Just like that, the heavy storm clouds that surrounded them were broken apart by lightning & sparks, electricity driving their actions.

Their kiss deepened & Gavin focused on the way one of Connor’s hands was clutching onto his wrist, while the other was resting on his cheek to hold his face at just the right angle that didn’t put too much strain on Gavin given their height difference.

Connor’s hands were cold, yet his touch somehow warmed Gavin up from the inside out. Funny how that worked.

It was only when he braved gently tugging at the man’s shirt that everything came to a halt. It didn’t exactly take a genius to know what Gavin was hinting at & he just hoped that he hadn’t fucked it all up by pushing Connor too far out of his comfort zone.

The kiss was broken & to Gavin’s surprise, Connor crossed his arms, hands gripping either side of the base of his shirt, those honey brown eyes swimming with nerves.

“I… I have a lot of scars.” He rasped out against Gavin’s lips.

_ ‘I have a lot of scars.’ _

_ Yeah, me fucking too, Con. But I promise you, they don’t change a thing. You’re still you.  _

It didn’t matter that Connor had scars, no matter how severe or small, it didn’t matter if he told the stories behind them or not, it didn’t matter if not all of them were physical.

It didn’t matter, because Gavin didn’t care.

It wasn’t the scars that made Connor so fucking remarkable, it was the fact that whatever happened to cause them, whatever happened to have him so fucking nervous all of the time, he still had the strength get up each morning & push on. Despite the world kicking him down, Connor got up anyway.

Gavin adored that about him with everything he had.

Connor was Connor, that’s all that mattered.

But when he opened his mouth to speak, when he tried to get out all of the things he was thinking, all that fucking came out was, “So do I.”

The words were so simple in comparison to what he wanted to say, but they seemed to be enough to bolster Connor’s confidence enough for him to pull his shirt off over his head in one, swift motion.

He watched as the man took the extra time to fold his shirt neatly & toss it so it landed on the other clothes that he had also folded. Always keeping everything so neat & in place. It had a tiny smile tugging one corner of Gavin’s lips.

Little pink scars littered Connor’s torso.

Both of them had their scars on show. Scars that held so much more than just a physical reminder, right there for the other to see & in a way, a mutual trust stemmed from that.

There was a silent hope in the both of them, that even without the comforting barrier of their clothes, they didn’t think differently of one another.

Gavin always wore so many fucking layers, trying to hide beneath it all & now he was practically bare for Connor to see & in return, the man was doing the same for him.

His dark eyes roamed over his companion’s torso & Gavin could fucking feel his cheeks heating up a little as he reached his hands out, but froze before they had the chance to trace along Connor’s lean stomach.

_ ‘Please don’t touch me.’  _

Connor’s words from their first night together ran through his mind & sure, he had kissed him, sure, he had held his hand once & cupped his cheek, but this was different.

This was… Something else entirely.

Ever so quietly, he asked, “Can I?” Gavin’s eyes flickering from his hands to Connor’s face as he waited for the answer.

He caught sight of the way what looked to be total surprise washed over Connor’s features, as though nobody had fucking asked him such a basic question before.

Connor was looking as though nobody had ever paused to be sure he was okay, to double check that what was happening was okay.

Just by the way Connor was acting, Gavin got a sick feeling he knew what the poor guy had been through & it made an anger bubble in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to hunt down whoever made Connor hurt so much & make damn sure they never fucking walked again.

But before he could spiral into that negative headspace that was tough to get out of once in it, an ever so soft voice pulled him back to the present.

“Yeah… Yeah, sure.”

Gavin’s rough & calloused hands so gently pressed against Connor’s stomach, smoothing along his pale skin before gently coming to rest on his hips instead.

He was so fucking beautiful.

Connor wasn’t quite built to the extent Gavin was. Gavin knew he had a lot of muscle, as though he was fucking made for the fights that he started. Whereas Connor was more slender. Slim, yet strong. He had muscles, but not quite as defined as Gavin’s were.

Still, despite the strength that Gavin clearly had over him, his companion still gave him that trust & in return, he tried to only ever touch him with the utmost gentle hands.

One of his hands moved from his hip so he could trail it along Connor’s stomach, thumb brushing over the odd scar before focusing on every freckle he could find that littered his pale flesh.

Gavin knew damn well the awe that was written across his face & when his eyes flickered up to meet Connor’s for just a moment, he saw the tiniest of smiles tugging at the man’s lips. 

God, that fucking smile.

“Like little constellations.” Gavin whispered as he dropped his eyes back to his hand, his voice barely audible over the sound of the running shower, but he knew that Connor would be able to hear his words clear as day.

As though to show Connor what he meant, he trailed the tip of his forefinger from one freckle to the next, as though drawing invisible lines that only he could see, connecting them all together.

A little shiver ran through Connor’s spine & Gavin could feel it. It had a little smile sitting on his own features as his fingers moved so delicately from one mark to the next.

He was less interested in the little scars that littered Connor’s torso & was so much more interested in his freckles. Because his freckles were  _ his,  _ they were something that belonged to him without having some tragic story behind it. 

They were all as perfect as the stars he was referring to.

“Shut up.” His companion eventually replied. It was rather belated, but he breathed it out through a shy little laugh as he took Gavin’s hands in his own & brought them up to his lips to plant kisses all over the bruises that sat on his knuckles.

Like he deserved it. 

Gavin had been expecting Connor to run the moment he saw the extent of the damage visible along his ribs, the bruising that spanned across his torso, them working as a not so friendly reminder of just who Gavin was.

The bruising on his knuckles paired with the bruises on his ribs, yet Connor kissed them so delicately anyway.

“Thought you were gonna shower…”

“Join me?” Gavin asked before he could stop himself. Before he could think about the situation & just how much of an absolutely terrible idea it was.

He was making a mistake. This was crossing that border into No Man’s Land. 

He was crawling out of the safety of his self dug trench, every kiss being another fucking step over the protective sandbags he had around himself & stepping into that shower, open & bare, was him all but begging to be shot in the fucking chest.

He was falling harder & fucking harder for Connor with each passing moment & with the goddamn downhill trajectory he was travelling on? Leaving Connor behind a second time was going to be agonising.

But the moment that Connor agreed? The moment a soft little ‘okay’ left those lips? Gavin could have fucking sworn he felt something in his hollow chest revive. A dead heart that had stopped beating the moment he pulled that trigger thumping back to life, pounding from inside his ribcage to a point where he was pretty sure he could feel it in his throat.

Gavin wanted the intimacy.

Even if it fucking terrified him. Even if he was so goddamn selfish for dragging Connor down with him.

But the fear was worth the feeling of being  _ alive. _

Gavin pulled back so he could make his way towards the little box of a shower, leaning his shoulder against the glass door for support as he slowly slid his boxers. He couldn’t help but wince a little at the pain of having to move, but hoped that he had stifled it enough that Connor didn’t notice.

He glanced to the man in question to see if he had & was amused by the sight of Connor’s cheeks flushing as he averted his gaze from looking at him for just a moment as he murmured towards his feet, “Are you sure you want me in there with you?”

Gavin carefully stepped into the shower, poking his head around the door. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to… Just stay. In here, out there. Just… Stay.” He reminded him, because if Connor didn’t want to, then he wasn’t about to force him into the shower. He only wanted this if they both did.

Whether Connor stayed out there, sitting on the toilet with the lid down or sitting against the wall, or whether he joined him, he just wanted him to stay.

For once, Gavin was admitting that he needed the company.

He shut the shower door once more, the glass fogging up with condensation almost immediately, giving Connor that privacy to make his own decision without Gavin waiting there, pressuring him into answering before he was ready.

But no longer than a few minutes later, there was a little knock on the shower door that was followed up by an ever so soft, “Gav?”

“Hm?” Gavin first used his finger to draw two circles as eye holes with a curved line beneath to make a stupid smily face in the condensation. Then, he rubbed a hand across the glass so he could properly look at Connor, a cheeky little smirk on his lips. “Wanna come in? Or you can steal my wallet & run off, your choice.”

“I’m not going to steal your wallet.” Then, after a second of contemplation, a little ‘idiot’ was tacked on the end.

“So you wanna come in?”

“Please.”

Just like that, no longer than a few moments later, Connor had stripped down & Gavin found himself boxed in the small glass space with him. They were completely vulnerable & very nearly pressed right up against one another.

Gavin was certain it was just a few moments, but it felt like an eternity of them just standing there, staring at one another as though expecting the other to move. Eventually though, his companion was the one who caved in first. 

Connor’s eyes dropped to the raven tattoo that spanned across the one side of his chest as he brought his fingers up to ever so delicately trace over the bold lines that made up the wings.

Even though it was such a tiny action, even though his touch was so delicate, it still sent a little shiver along Gavin’s spine.

It was a foreign feeling… To have someone touch him so delicately when his clothes were off. He didn’t think he had ever felt anything like it before. 

It made him nervous, almost. Funny how a man twice his size in a bar, throwing a punch to his face didn’t spark nerves or fears, but Connor’s tender touches?

Tenderness was terrifying. Compassion was scarier than staring down the barrel of a gun.

Gavin’s hands came to settle ever so gently on the man’s hips again, holding him close, but all the while being sure to keep a careful bit of space between them, for Connor’s sake.

He never let his eyes drift any lower than his stomach either. It wasn’t his place.

How far they took this intimacy was Connor’s decision to make.

A quiet, shuddered breath left the man as he focused on his fingers, a slight shake to his hands that Gavin could see as he traced each outline of the tattoo. It was only when his fingers got to one of the wings, the one that was shaded a little darker than the other, that they stilled for a moment.

Gavin knew damn well what that meant. Connor could feel what was hidden beneath.

All the man had to do was lean a little closer, look with a little more scrutiny & he would be able to make out the ugly scars that lay underneath.

But he didn’t.

Connor didn’t bother trying to see what the raven was hiding, but in a barely there voice that was almost drowned out by the shower running, he did ask what happened.

For a few minutes, Gavin fell quiet. His first instinct was to ask ‘why do you care?’, but he knew by now that yeah, whether he liked it or not, it didn’t matter how much he tried to stay closed off, Connor cared.

So he kept his mouth shut, trying to contemplate the best answer to give.

He could lie. Lie like telling Tina he was fine & that the accident was no big deal. Lie like telling Connor that he didn’t care.

But lying was becoming increasingly more difficult with each passing hour he spent in such close proximity to the hitchhiker with the pretty eyes & ugly past.

Besides, he liked that curious side to Connor. The side that rummaged through his glove box when he thought Gavin wasn’t looking. The side that looked around North’s shelves in the garage when she wasn’t there to tell him off. The side that asked questions, despite knowing that they could get thrown back in his face at any given moment.

He liked that Connor braved asking, even though he knew Gavin had a temper. 

Even though he knew Gavin Reed was a ticking fucking time bomb. Cut one wrong wire & it all goes to shit, but Connor braved it time & time again.

Because he cared.

So eventually, ever so quietly, Gavin eventually just murmured, ‘I, uh, I had a shitty dad… I guess.”

_ ‘I had a shitty dad.’ _

Yeah. That was putting it lightly.

A dad that beat him & his brother. A dad that terrorised them as kids & adults. A dad that let his friends get involved in the action. A dad that-

No, that wasn’t a  _ dad _ . That was a man who didn’t fucking deserve that title.

Connor’s hand dropped from where he was tracing the tattoo & instead of saying an empty fucking ‘I’m sorry’ like most people would, he just leaned in to plant another one of those little kisses to Gavin’s forehead.

They were tiny little bad decisions that Connor kept on making.

Every kiss, whether to his forehead or his lips, every question about who the hell Gavin Reed was, every single smile his way, every fucking glance in his direction-

They were terrible, terrible decisions.

Gavin shoved those thoughts as far down as they could go for a little while & instead glanced at the little scar that sat just below Connor’s sternum, bringing a hand up to brush along it in the same way Connor had done with his tattoo.

Ever so softly, or as softly as his rough voice could allow, he asked the same question that the man had asked him just a few moments ago, “What happened?”

Connor didn’t take as long to form a response, but when he did, his voice was so fucking quiet, “Oh. Well, uhm, I got in a car accident when I was a teenager. Nothing serious, really. But me & my brother got pretty banged up real good. Him more than me.”

Guilt sat in those pretty brown eyes, as clear as fucking day. Like Connor somehow held all of the blame for it. Like his brother being hurt too was his fault. 

“Was it your brother who you were writing the postcard to?”

“Yeah.”

He knew damn well that if he could write postcards to Eli, he would; so he made a mental note to find a post office in the next state, so Connor could send that postcard once they were out of Iowa. 

Gavin leaned down just a little & waited for a moment to see if Connor took a step back or tried to push him away, but when none of that came, he ever so gently planted a kiss over his sternum before straightening back out again.

It became almost like a fucked up game of show & tell.

Connor brushed his thumb over a scar that sat on Gavin’s bicep & asked what happened. He mentioned that he could tell it was a gunshot wound, because his father had one just like it on his chest from being on the force.

“Wrong place, wrong time, is all.”

“That’s what my dad said too.”

“Don’t believe me?”

“No, I believe you.”

Just like with how Gavin had kissed Connor’s sternum, Connor leaned in & gently pressed his lips to the scar, then he moved to plant a little kiss to the raven tattoo too before pulling back.

_ Tiny bad decisions. _

But they kept on coming; & Gavin kept making them too.

Gavin picked one of Connor’s scars, Connor picked one of Gavin’s in return. They shared the story behind it, or the version that skirted around the truth just enough to not be a total lie.

Gavin learnt that one of Connor’s scars was from a dog bite, another was from ‘falling’ down the stairs. In return, he let Connor know about the scar on the back of his hand being from his cat & the one on his wrist was from a cigarette burn from when he was a kid.

Their show & tell didn’t exactly last all that long, those defensive walls he had built beginning to go back up.

He was being too vulnerable. Too open. 

Perhaps Connor could feel the budding tension crackling between them too, because neither had to say it for them to stop prying.

Gavin didn’t want to lose Connor to insecurities & he assumed that in the same vein, Connor didn’t want to lose him to his defense mechanisms, so their little game was mutually cut short.

Momentarily, anyway.

Connor turned to the little shelf that housed those shitty little motel soaps & body washes that always left them smelling like cheap pine & jasmine. 

As he did however, Gavin caught sight of those huge scars that spanned across the man’s lower back & hips; the scars that he had just barely seen all that time ago when Connor had leaned over to fix his hair in the wing mirror, causing his shirt to pull up a little.

Back then, Gavin pretended he didn’t notice. But now? A hushed ‘holy shit’ fell from his lips before he could catch it. 

They were so extensive. They were jagged & would have taken some serious stitches to patch up.

He went to rest his hands on Connor’s hips just as he had before, but the moment they settled there, Gavin felt the way the man’s whole body locked up, noticed the way Connor’s hands froze in place where he was reaching for the little shelf.

He knew that reaction anywhere.

Panic.

His hands instantly fell away, dropping to his sides instead. When he heard an ever so quiet, yet so clearly choked out through a stuttered & shaking breath, “P-Please don’t”, Gavin took a step back & given the tiny space they were in, his shoulder blades pressed up against the glass, sending a shiver down his spine.

But he stayed still. Pressed as far back as he could go, cold be damned. Connor was more important.

Panic had its way of trying to choke someone out. It tried to chew them up & spit them back out again; only to leave them to pull their broken pieces back together again to trudge on like nothing happened.

Panic consumed every fucking part of one’s body & if Connor couldn’t pull himself back from the brink, then Gavin would do it for him.

He got a sick sense he knew what that ‘please don’t’ meant. 

“I would never.”

Three tiny words, but they were the most honest ones Gavin had ever spoken. 

“G-Gav?” A tiny, meek little voice piped up.

Gavin stayed where he was, frozen still against the glass, teeth grit to ignore the shivers that were trying to shake through his body at being out of the way of the warm water. “Want me to get out, give you some space?”

“N-No… c-could you talk, though? I-” Connor’s voice was barely there through his shuddered breaths. His head was bowed as he stared at his feet, the water from the shower soaking his hair & causing it to fall forward over his face, droplets dripping down his nose. “-I don’t want to think. Please?”

He could do that. It took a moment for Gavin to actually fucking think about something to talk about, but eventually, he settled on asking a question that he hoped would give Connor a centre point to focus on. Something that wasn’t wherever his mind had got lost in.

“So, you said you got bit by a dog, right? Does that mean you had one as a pet?”

Gavin phoned Tina countless times, asking her to talk to him, just so he could catch a few hours rest, because he couldn’t fucking sleep without her. If he did, he’d wake from nightmares before his body had even got a chance to rest in the first place.

So he used the tools of conversation that Tina did with him in the hopes of them helping. She’d ask him light hearted questions, stuff that he’d have to think about which in turn, would help take his mind off of the bad shit.

“Yeah… Kinda. My dad has one. Big Saint Bernard.”

“Oh yeah? What’s its name? Wanna tell me about it?”

So Connor did. He told Gavin that the dog was called Sumo. He learnt that while Connor’s father was at a crime scene, they found the puppy locked in a room, his owner being the victim. Rather than taking the dog to a shelter, his father kept him.

He explained to Gavin that the dog was really afraid at first & bit them a few times. Nothing too severe, but the time Connor got bit was rough enough to leave a scar, but neither Connor nor his father gave up on the violent little dog.

It was only violent because it was afraid.

Funny how humans had such similar traits in that regard.

Gavin kept the conversation going the best he could, prompting the man to talk more about how much he loved dogs & in return, Gavin spoke about how he was a cat person. He told Connor about how he & Tina lived together & how they had a cat named Sadie, which was named after a cowboy from a video game he used to love.

The distraction seemed to be working, because as they talked about nothing in particular, he saw the way Connor’s shoulders, that moved with his chest as he breathed so quickly, eventually settled down. The tension sitting in his shoulder blades ebbed away & he finally focused on grabbing the bar of jasmine soap from the shelf, eventually turning back to face Gavin.

Those brown eyes were glassy with tears, but Gavin didn’t focus on them for long. Instead, he watched the way his companion rubbed the soap between his hands to warm it up a little before reaching out with one hand to pull Gavin back under the shower.

He watched the way Connor first smelled the soap to be sure it wouldn’t just end up making them smell worse than when they had entered the shower. Then, he was pliant in Connor’s grip as the man gently took his hand so he could run the bar along his arm to wash him the best he could.

Living from motel to motel wasn’t exactly the most fucking luxurious life in the world, but at least this motel actually stocked their own soaps, along with shitty little 2-in-1 shampoos & conditioners.

Connor moved on to wash Gavin’s other arm for him & he noticed the way the man was so careful to be sure he didn’t raise his arms in a way that could cause more pain.

A part of Gavin wanted to protest. A part of him wanted to snatch the soap & say he was perfectly able to look after himself, but considering he couldn’t even get his fucking sweater off by himself, he kept his mouth shut.

He kept his mouth shut the whole time. Connor was so focused on carefully washing his torso & ribs, trying to be as gentle as possible, pausing for a moment each time Gavin let out a little hiss of pain if the pressure applied was too much.

Eventually though, Gavin whispered, “Are you okay?”

Without missing a beat, Connor whispered back, “I will be.”

The rest of their shower was carried out in a comfortable quiet. 

Connor helped wash Gavin’s hair for him, massaging the cheap 2-in-1 stuff into his messy brown locks & Gavin apologised for not being able to return the favour due to the pain it caused across his ribs to reach his arms up.

Even the slightest touches to those bruises had him wincing, his breath audibly hitching in his throat almost every time. Connor had clearly noticed too, because once both of them were washed & their hair had been scrubbed to be as clean as he could get it, the man maneuvered Gavin’s arm so his hand was resting on Connor’s shoulder.

From there, he gently pressed two fingers over Gavin’s ribs to try & feel the extent of the damage.

It fucking hurt too, but he stayed as still as he could, letting Connor play doctor.

Gavin’s blunt nails dug into the man’s shoulder quite harshly as he tried to stifle the sounds that were being practically forced out of him as Connor poked around the purpled skin.

But he bit down on his lower lip, tears stinging his eyes as he caught the split that sat there with his teeth.

“I’m sorry…” Connor whispered as a particularly pained groan left him when those fingers pressed right against one particular rib right beneath his armpit.

Gavin already fucking knew what the damage was, he knew exactly what he was hiding beneath his sweater & there was no doubt in his mind that Connor now knew too. 

He saw the almost disappointed look that crossed Connor’s face for a moment. The look that all but said ‘Gavin Reed, you are a fucking idiot for sleeping on a broken rib. You are an idiot for putting pressure on it & ignoring it while on no pain meds. You’re an idiot for not telling me.’

“It’s broken… But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

_ Of course I did. It isn’t the first time it’s happened. _

Gavin didn’t care that he was hurt & when he failed to actually give a response, he could see the hurt wash across Connor’s features. Hurt that he didn’t love himself in the same way that Connor loved him.

All he got was a sigh. Along with a slight nod & a remark about how the water was going cold, so they better get out before they caught a chill. 

Once they were out of the shower, Gavin pretended to not notice the way Connor took an extra second to feel both of the towels before giving him the softest one to dry off with. He also pretended to not notice the way the man was so fucking gentle when helping him back into his clothes before getting into his own.

They ended up back in the main room & Connor pulled the pillows from what would have been his bed to prop them around the wooden headboard of Gavin’s, that way he could rest a little more comfortably while sitting up.

He helped Gavin get comfortable, telling him to get some rest & even grabbed his phone from where he had thrown it across the room & tucked it under one of the pillows for easy access.

But right before the man could leave him, Gavin reached out a hand to take Connor’s gently in his own, quietly asking if he’d stay for a little while.

With a soft smile & a nod, he agreed.

At first, Gavin was slouched against the pillows with Connor perched on the edge of his bed, but somehow, after a quiet conversation about how much pain he was in & how sitting up would be better, they still ended up lying face to face on Gavin’s bed instead.

The lights were dim, the sun setting & Gavin couldn’t tear his eyes from the man opposite.

He reached out a hand, delicately pushing Connor’s damp bangs from his face, tucking them behind his ear as he whispered, “Con? Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Are those scars… Why you’re on the run?” 

While Connor had his back to him during their shower together, Gavin had got a good look at those scars. He knew scar tissue well, he was a goddamn scrapbook of them for fuck sake; so he could tell that those thick pink lines that ran all along the man’s lower back, tapering off around his hips were relatively new. Recently healed over.

“Yes.” Connor answered back honestly, his voice a whisper as he mimicked Gavin’s action from a few seconds prior, reaching out to tuck his hair behind his ears. 

Then, that hand found Gavin’s, their fingers interlacing.

“I’m sorry I scared you. When I said you were on the news & when we were in the shower. You don’t have to tell me...” Gavin’s voice had moved from a rough whisper to a murmur, his eyes drifting down to look at their hands.

He focused on the slight difference in their skin tones. The way Connor was so pale in comparison to his olive complexion. He studied the way Connor’s fingers were so slender. The way his knuckles were a little red, but they didn’t have purple bruises on them or splits in them like Gavin’s did.

They were so fucking different, yet their hands fit together like two matching puzzle pieces.

“But… I’m here, y’know? I don’t care what you did to end up being here with me, it won’t change anything between us.”

“You had a shitty dad…” Connor trailed off, whispering in a way that sounded as though he was struggling to properly find his words, like he had to really force them out to get them to be heard. “I had a shitty ex.”

They both fucking knew damn well that ‘shitty’ was the understatement of the century, but it was easier than going into detail about just how fucked up the people in their lives were.

“I’ll keep you safe.” Gavin whispered, bringing their hands up to plant a kiss to each of Connor’s fingers before resting them back on the bed again. “If they come looking.”

He couldn’t keep Elijah safe when their father came looking for them, he wasn’t about to make that same mistake with Connor. 

His words came out all pushed together, spoken in the same way that Connor had, as though if he didn’t force them all out at once, then they wouldn’t get out at all.

But when he glanced up to those brown doe eyes, he could tell Connor caught what he had said by the tears that were welling in them.

There were a few long moments where Gavin’s words sat heavy in the air between them, but that ended when Connor shook his head with a faint little, almost pathetic laugh.

“They won’t come looking.” Was all he whispered back.

_ ‘They won’t come looking.’ _

They were four small words, such a short little sentence, yet the weight in which they were spoken had something strange sitting in Gavin’s gut. A feeling that there was a reason why Connor had stumbled in front of his car all that time ago. That there was a reason why he looked so scared when Gavin had said he was on the news.

Sure, when he joked that Connor had killed his whole family & was on the run ever since, Connor simply replied with ‘I didn’t kill my family.’

That didn’t mean he wasn’t a killer, though. By the looks of things, if he killed his ex? They fucking deserved it; if they were the reason Connor was so shaken up.

“It was self defen-”

“I know.” Gavin whispered ever so quietly, cutting off those words before they had a chance to sit in the air between them. 

He had heard those words before they were even spoken, like Gavin could hear that they had been cycling on repeat in the man’s head, over & over & fucking over again, building until Connor couldn’t take it anymore & they just spilled out.

But Connor didn’t owe him an explanation. He could see the fear sitting in those brown eyes. He could feel the way Connor’s hand was clutching so fucking tightly onto his own, his nails digging into Gavin’s knuckles to a point where it hurt.

But he swallowed down the pain, refused to let it show on his face. Because Connor was trusting him with a secret of this magnitude, he wasn’t about to fuck it up by pulling away.

He wasn’t going to pull back. He wasn’t going to tell Tina. He wasn’t going to let Connor spiral over something that wasn’t his fucking fault.

So he didn’t do anything besides accept Connor’s truth with a nod & a whisper.

Perhaps one of his famous little ‘I don’t care’s would have been fitting, because despite the numerous times he had said those words, this might have been the first time where he thoroughly, genuinely, whole-heartedly did not care. 

Out of all the things that should probably scare him, Connor’s sort of admittance to murder wasn’t one of them.

He didn’t care. It’d be hypocritical if he did.

Gavin didn’t care because it didn't change a goddamn thing. Connor was still Connor & he would still look at him like the stars were painted across his skin.

The pair stayed lying there, hand in hand, eyes fluttered shut, focusing on the quiet sounds of their calm breathing. Gavin knew he wasn’t going to fall to sleep & he got a feeling the man beside him wouldn’t either. But the quiet was still peaceful.

For just a while, despite the pain coursing through his ribs, despite it also stretching across his torso & back, things were actually fucking okay.

Eventually though, that pain had to ruin things & Gavin couldn’t stay lying there on his side any longer. He ended up rolling onto his back instead, gently letting go of Connor’s hand in favour of pressing his against his ribs as though it’d help alleviate some of the pain.

His eyes fluttered back open, stifling a groan of pain as he stared up at the ceiling, glaring at one of the cracks that sat there.

“I told you sitting up would hurt less.” A quiet, groggy voice spoke up from beside him & Connor sat himself up, looking down at Gavin for a moment before rubbing at his eyes in a tired, child-like manner. 

It was so fucking adorable.

“Mhm.” Gavin grumbled back moodily, which earned him an eye roll from his companion, who then leaned down to press a kiss to his hairline before standing up. With a stretch & a sigh, Connor tugged his jacket on, zipping it up before pulling on those bright orange & pink gloves he had, along with his shoes.

“Gonna go find a chemist, alright? I won’t be long.” Was all that was murmured before the man headed towards the door.

Right as his hand rested on the handle ready to pull it open, Gavin blurted out, “I’m not looking for the best coffee shop.”

Connor froze in place for a moment & Gavin watched the way he looked down at his hand on the door handle, then over his shoulder to meet his gaze. 

His eyes darted around the man’s face, searching for even the tiniest change in his expression, but nothing came. Connor’s eyes were still soft, his face carefully neutral.

He didn’t argue. He didn’t ask Gavin why he lied to him. He didn’t shout or shrug. Instead, Connor simply settled on repeating exactly what Gavin had said earlier back to him.

“I know.”

It was like he always knew it was a lie, like he had never expected the truth from Gavin.

Then again, who really expects the truth from a stranger?

An artist & a musician, that’s all they were. A man with a little too much anger & one with not enough.

Just like that, Connor made his way out, quietly shutting the door behind him & leaving Gavin alone for a little while with all of the new information he had learnt about his hitchhiker.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck.

_ “Fuck!” _ Gavin yelled at nobody from where he was sat on the bed, resting against the pillows that his pretty, whiskey eyed companion had arranged for him. His hands came up to scrub over his face, his phone resting on his lap instead.

Connor had been gone for a good half an hour & the moment that door had shut, Gavin began to spiral.

_ You’re a fucking idiot, Gavin. _

Gavin let his head fall back against the headboard with a dull thud, a quiet groan escaping his lips.

_ You shouldn’t have kissed him. You shouldn’t have asked him to join you in the shower. You should have just apologised for arguing & got over it. _

_ You shouldn’t have kissed him. _

_ You shouldn’t have- _

Before Gavin was even registering what he was doing, his hands were already dialing Tina’s phone number & he was already holding the phone to his ear.

It rang out & without hesitation, Gavin tried again. Then again.

She picked up on the third try.

_ “I’m fucking mad at you, Gavin! You broke up with me over the fucking phone!” _

Tina always called it that. They both did. They had a promise to never ‘break up’ with one another through text or over the phone. They had a promise that if they ever argued, then they’d always fix their problems. That they’d be best friends until the bitter end.

That he’d tell her everything.

He had broken that promise one too many times. But right now? He needed her. He needed to tell her about Connor. About how he made him feel, about the kisses shared, about the royal fuck up he had created.

“Tina? I fucked up.”

_ I crashed my car. I let a stranger fuck me in a bar before beating the shit out of me. I killed Elijah. I kissed someone. _

He was half expecting to get a speech from her. Something along the lines of, ‘Yeah, no shit you fucked up, you piece of shit. You ruin everything you touch blah blah fucking blah you’re a terrible person blah’.

But instead, all he got was a soft sigh from down the phone, one of those ‘disappointed but not surprised’ sighs. The type that all but screamed, ‘I’m too tired to be mad at you’.

_ “Talk to me, Gav. Please don’t shut me out. Just- I swear I won’t even come & find you, I’ll go back home- Just… Gavin, please don’t fucking leave me. I can’t- I’d lose my fucking mind without you.” _

There was a plea to her voice, a desperation that Gavin had never heard before. Like she just fucking knew that if she didn’t beg now, she’d never get another chance to talk to her best friend again.

It had tears welling in Gavin’s eyes & from where his head was tipped back against the headboard, he blinked a few times to clear his vision as he stared up at the ceiling. 

It took a few moments for him to actually fucking talk. He opened his mouth a few times, but every time he tried to speak, no sound would come out.

Eventually, though, he just… Broke.

Once he started, he couldn’t fucking stop.

He explained to her that he had gotten into one fight, then not too long later, ended up in another one. He told her about the man at the bar, what they did & how he ended up with a broken rib & a busted face. He told her that he had crashed his car, that it was getting repaired in a garage as they spoke. He told her that once it was all fixed up, he was heading straight to Michigan to return to Detroit.

Besides the odd intake of air, or the ‘holy shit’ here & there, Tina had stayed quiet the whole time Gavin was opening up. 

Until he said he was going to Detroit.

He knew just by her voice that Tina knew exactly why he was going to Detroit of all places.

_ “What?! Gavin- No! Why would you- Just… Come home, Gav. Don’t do this to yourself.” _

_ ‘Don’t do this to yourself.’ _

Just like what he had said to Connor all that time ago.

_ Connor.  _

The hitchhiker he had picked up after driving away from a fight.

The hitchhiker who all but admitted to killing someone while they were lying together.

The hitchhiker that had spurred something to thud in Gavin’s chest with every fucking glance his way & was the reason he had phoned Tina in the first place, but had left out of his explanation.

Funny how he wanted to tell her about Connor, how he wanted to tell her about Eli. They were two key pieces to the mess of a puzzle that was his road trip across the States, yet when telling Tina almost everything, their names caught in his throat before he could get them out.

Funny how his dad & Detroit were the reason why those names got lost. 

His dad, even when not actively there, still had his grip so tightly around him.

He needed to tell her.

With a tired sigh, Gavin put the phone on speaker so he didn’t have to hold it to his ear any longer & instead settled back a little more comfortably against the headboard with the quilt wrapped around him, phone in his lap.

“I- I can’t do that, T.”

_ “Why the fuck not, Gavin?! Because you’re gonna go find him, that it?! You gonna show up to his work & then what, huh?! Gavin, we moved out of Detroit to get you away! I changed precincts so we could keep you safe! We started again, dammit! We-” _

Before Gavin could stop the words, before he could think twice about what it meant for Tina to know, before he could remind himself that her knowing would make her a bad cop if she kept it to herself, Gavin was already blurting out three words that he hadn’t ever said before, stopping Tina’s dead in her tracks.

“I killed Elijah.” 

The name finally fell from his lips.

Tears were slipping down his cheeks freely now & there was no doubt in his mind that Tina would be able to hear his shaky breathing as he tried to stop his body from completely fucking breaking down.

There was a silence from the other end of the phone for a long few moments, before a soft voice that was a huge contrast to the shouting a few moments ago murmured,  _ “Oh, Gavin…” _

Once his breathing was about as composed as he was going to get it, Gavin just spilled everything.

Again, everything except for Connor.

He told her about what happened with Elijah before he pulled the trigger, told her that he was going to take his own life too, but couldn’t fucking do it. He told her that the news reports that said Elijah Kamski died tragically in a mugging gone wrong were complete bullshit. 

He told her he left not because he needed time to deal, but because he was losing his goddamn fucking mind & he was going back to Detroit to end it once & for all.

He told her what he wanted to do & not once did Tina interrupt him. 

It was only when he said he planned on killing his father or sabotaging his company building with himself inside if he couldn’t find the man that ruined everything, that Tina said,  _ “Let me meet you in Michigan. No cops. Just your best friend, Gav. Your ride or die. I won’t come find you now, but before you- Please, Gavin. Let me see my best fucking friend one last time in Michigan. Please. _

“T.”

_ “Please, Gavin!”  _ She practically cried out down the phone, tears causing her voice to shake & waver, her pleas desperate & her tone so fucking broken.

How the fuck was Gavin supposed to say no to that a second time? How the fuck could he break her heart all over again? How could he-

He couldn’t. 

He couldn’t just hang up. If the roles were reversed, he would do anything to see her one last time too.

So before hitting that little red button, Gavin just murmured, “I’ll text you when I’m in Michigan.”

_ “Promise?” _

“Promise.”

Just like that, the line went dead & all Gavin could do was press his hands to his face as he tried to stifle his tears with shaky breaths, overwhelming waves upon waves of pure, undiluted hurt crashing into him from every fucking angle.

What a goddamn fucking mess.

He left Tina in the dark for a reason. Now he knew damn fucking well once they made it to Michigan, she was going to try to talk him out of what he had planned. Tina waiting alone at that ‘Welcome to Detroit’ sign was so much more terrifying than being met by a police squad with guns trained on his chest.

No more than a few moments later, the motel door clicked open & Gavin was quick to swipe his sleeves across his cheeks to hide his tears. Then, he settled down a little more so he was in a more slouched position, eyes fluttering shut so he could pretend to be asleep.

He heard those familiar footfalls against the shitty motel carpet, the sound of Connor shuffling to dust the snow off of his sneakers. But when he didn’t hear the door click shut again, Gavin slowly raised his head to peer over at the doorway instead.

Connor was stood just inside the doorway, letting in all the fucking winter air because he hadn’t shut the door yet. His nose was pink from the cold, cheeks slightly flushed. Snow still sat on his sneakers despite the way he tried to shake them off & the bottom of his jeans were damp from trudging through the fresh snow that had cast a white blanket across more than one state.

His jacket was pulled tight around him, arms hugging his stomach tight & his face just looked so fucking sad.

Those eyes were not so bright anymore, his lips having a slight downturn to them.

“Con?” Was all he could ask as he slowly sat up with a hiss of pain. Clearly pretending to be asleep was fucking pointless when Connor looked, well quite frankly, he looked heartbroken.

“Are you alr-”

“Detroit is nine hours away.”

Gavin had never told Connor about Detroit. Only about Michigan.

He had only mentioned Detroit on the phone to Tina right before Connor walked i-

Fuck.

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck! _

“How much of that did you hear?” Gavin asked in an almost dangerously low tone as he saw the way Connor’s eyes flickered to his bag that was sitting at the end of the bed he was sitting on, then back to Gavin.

His bag with his gun in it.

“All of it.”

“Con, I can expla-”

“I’m not- I’m not ready to lose you… I’m not ready to say goodbye.” Connor murmured ever so quietly, but that quiet murmur so quickly took a drastic turn as though the reality of the situation was properly sinking in. 

They were always on a time limit, but neither had actively realised how little time was left between Iowa & Michigan until-

_ “I don’t want just nine more hours with you, Gavin!” _

Nine hours.

If the roads were clear, if they hopped back in his car right now & drove without stopping straight to Detroit, they’d make it in nine hours give or take.

He had never thought of it like that before. 

It fucking hurt.

A hell of a lot more than a broken rib ever could.


	11. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The more time spent together, the more Connor & Gavin learn about one another. But Connor doesn't just want nine more hours with Gavin. So he makes an offer, or was it a demand?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this taking longer than the usual update time to get out, I needed a little break that just consisted of me binging Voltron & not thinking about writing or art. But I will try to get the last few chapters out sooner rather than later, but we shall see. Thanks for being patient & happy reading<3

Connor was so angry.

He had no right, absolutely no right to be as angry as he was, but all he knew was that he was. So much so that his hands were curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms so fucking hard that the sting of it brought fresh tears to his already teary eyes. 

They had been teary for the past ten minutes.

There was a wall that sat around the motel’s car park, about the height of Connor’s waist, so he had hopped up to sit on it after brushing some of the snow aside; legs dangled over the edge, nails digging into his palms.

He had left the door to their motel room swung open, had marched down the stairs & almost slipped on the way down. 

He needed air. He needed to think.

Times like these, Connor wished he smoked. People who smoked always got a free pass to just up & leave any situation with the excuse of going to fill their lungs with chemicals that could kill them.

Is that why Gavin smoked as much as he did? Was it the same reason he drove with only one hand on the wheel & got into fights with strangers at bars?

Was he just waiting for one of them to take him out before his trip was done?

So he could be with Elijah again?

In a way, Connor felt almost selfish for being angry, selfish for wanting more time with Gavin when he realised just what Gavin was missing.

He knew that he couldn’t go back to Oregon, he could never see his family again, not for a while at least; but Nines & Hank were still  _ alive.  _ He got to have the wishful thinking of that perhaps they were okay, that they hopefully didn’t miss him every day like he does with them. Connor got to have the comforting thoughts when he lay in bed at night that Hank & Nines were still alive & that maybe, just maybe, they were happy.

Gavin didn’t have that.

The more he thought about it, the more Connor realised that he didn’t want to go to Michigan.

Sat there on that wall in the middle of fucking winter, the only light illuminating the surrounding area being from the motel behind him, it settled into him just how little he actually wanted to get to their end destination.

He didn’t want to start again.

He wanted Gavin. Selfishly so.

A few more days to love him. A few more days where they could pretend that they were normal, that they were a couple, that they were happy.

Was there a set amount of time to fall in love with somebody?

Was there a way to know for sure? That there really was love there & it wasn’t just out of convenience?

Then again, falling in love with Gavin was not at all convenient. It was actually rather infuriating. Things would be far less complicated if they were still strangers.

But they were not strangers, not anymore.

Did the situation change things?

If they were not on a time limit, if they were not alone, if they were not being chased by similar demons, would they still feel the same?

If they met on the street in an alternate world, would they still meet each other’s gaze with that same longing look? 

Connor had got a peek into that beautiful soul that was hidden away beneath defensive walls, cigarette smoke & ‘I don’t care’s. 

He wanted more.

He wanted a lifetime of more & knew damn well that he’d be lucky to get a few more days.

But could he really complain?

After all, could you fall in love in just fourteen days?

He wasn’t so sure.

“Elijah was my brother.” That rough voice that he loved to hear so much piped up from somewhere behind him & although Gavin’s voice was quiet, it didn’t fail to make Connor jump.

How the hell could an injured man sneak up on him so easily?

He really was getting lost in his own head a little too much.

There was an ever so quiet, mumbled apology from his companion when he caught the way he flinched. Then, Gavin made his way around the wall so he could climb up & sit beside him. Before Connor even had the chance to say something along the lines of ‘wait, you’re just going to hurt yourself more’, the man was already shoulder to shoulder with him.

Gavin had the hood on his sweater bundled up so it sat more around his neck to keep him warm & had his knitted blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders. After a few moments of silence, his companion then shifted again, just enough so that he could wrap the large blanket around Connor’s shoulders too.

He was grateful too, because it was fucking freezing & he was beginning to contemplate whether he was going to end up with frostbite or not. But with Gavin’s warmth pressing in against his side, Connor thought he might just make it out of this moment alive.

“You don’t look like brothers.” Connor murmured back, refusing to look at the man beside him & instead stayed focused on the way a little bird was trying to make a nest in the tree just over the road from them.

Despite the snow, despite the bitter cold, against all the odds, it tried to live on anyway. Huh.

“That’s why nobody thought we were. Thought we were friends at most. It kept me out of the public eye too, which was good ‘cause I wasn’t exactly good for his image.” Gavin scoffed quietly with a shake of his head as he pressed just that little bit closer.

When Connor had given Gavin his phone after their shower, he caught a glance of his phone background after checking to be sure the screen wasn’t cracked. 

It was a picture of Gavin standing beside someone, the pair of them grinning & looking genuinely happy, Gavin holding up two fingers behind the man’s head.

He thought he recognised the man beside him in the photo.

Elijah Kamski, a bigshot tech guy in Detroit. Once or twice he had popped up in the news when he was living back in Oregon. 

A few years back, there was an article about him moving out of Detroit, but people didn’t know where. 

A few weeks back, there was a news article about his tragic death. Connor didn’t have time to dwell on it, to think about it. Not when he had his own mess to deal with & besides, he didn’t care much for celebrity faces.

But now?

Learning that it was a celebrity face of somebody important to Gavin? More guilt swam around the pit of his stomach, like he should have cared more, because that somebody was important to somebody else.

He just so happened to really like that somebody else.

“Why did you do it?” Connor asked before he could stop himself.

_ ‘I killed Elijah’.  _ Connor had heard those words clear as day through the door, no matter how quietly they were spoken. 

For a long few moments, Gavin didn’t speak. The only sounds that came from him were the hiss of pain as he moved to pull his cigarettes out of his jean’s pocket, followed up by the quiet sound of a lighter’s click, then the deep inhale, which was also followed up by another hiss of pain.

Gavin held the smoke for a long while before slowly exhaling, tilting his head back as he did so, so the smoke would plume above them & be taken by the whistling winds that surrounded them.

“He asked me to.”

“Oh… That doesn’t make you a bad person.”

Gavin wasn’t a bad person. The thought had crossed his mind once or twice, but just by the way the man acted, Connor could damn well tell that he carried too much guilt along with him to be ‘bad’. 

Gavin wasn’t bad.

The man in question let out a quiet huff, as though out of all the times they had said he wasn’t a bad person, this was the one time he didn’t believe it now Connor knew the truth.

But the truth didn’t change anything. Gavin was still Gavin.

“Are you going to call the cops?” Gavin asked in a whisper.

“Are you?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

Gavin didn’t deserve the go to prison for what he did, after all, Elijah asked him to.

Connor didn’t deserve to go to prison for what he did either. After all, it was self defence.

_ It was self defence. It was- _

Gavin knew it was self defence. Gavin believed him.

The man could so easily be lying about Elijah, about them being siblings. Hell, he could be lying about all of the little things Connor knew so far. But if Gavin was going to believe that he had only killed because of self defence, then Connor was going to believe that Gavin had only killed because the other person had asked him to.

Connor shook his head to himself, as though that could somehow shake his thoughts away. He then slowly, almost hesitantly, shifted just enough to curl against Gavin, gently letting the side of his head rest against the man’s shoulder.

After a brief moment, he felt the slight pressure of Gavin resting his cheek against his tousled hair.

Connor wanted to ask if his necklace was from Elijah, & if that was why it meant so much to him. He wanted to ask if Elijah was the reason why Gavin carried around a gun with one bullet missing. He wanted to tell him that he was just torturing himself by doing that, but Connor knew all he’d get back would be an ‘I know’.

So instead, he tried to keep it light hearted. Despite all of the things he wanted to ask & say, instead he just asked, “Does that mean you’re Gavin Kamski?” 

Connor rubbed his hands together to try to warm them, because even with Tina’s gloves on, his fingers were still so fucking cold. Perhaps one day he’d get to return them to her. Maybe her missing friend too, while he was at it.

Perhaps that was wishful thinking.

“Not a chance. Changed my name years ago so my dad couldn’t find where I lived. Gavin Reed.” 

“Gavin Reed, huh? Well, I suppose it’s only fair to return to favour. Connor Anderson.”

From nobody, to convict, to Con, to Connor, to Connor Anderson. 

He really was putting a lot of trust in this man.

Much like Reed not being Gavin’s birth name, Anderson wasn’t Connor’s either. But when Hank took him & Nines in, they both changed it almost as a way to be eternally grateful to Hank for changing their lives for the better.

He could hear Hank’s voice in the back of his mind again though. 

_ ‘Do not let anyone know your true identity, you hear me?’ _

But Gavin wasn’t just anyone.

Gavin was the closest thing he had to familiarity. Gavin was the closest thing he had to a home.

That realisation dawned heavily on him, that realisation that home wasn’t the smell of paints anymore. Home wasn’t freshly washed linen, home wasn’t freshly cooked meals, not anymore.

Home wasn’t an apartment or an art museum.

Home wasn’t Oregon. 

_ Home wasn’t a place. _

Home was the subtle smell of stale cigarettes that clung to their clothes & the coffee that lingered on their breath. Home was the blanket that they shared & the short conversations.

_ Home was a person. _

“I am going to miss you so much when you’re gone, Gavin Reed.” The words had been cycling around his mind so many times, he almost didn’t quite realise that he had said them aloud.

The corners of his eyes were beginning to sting & there were only so many times that Connor could try to fool himself & blame it on bitterly cold winds. 

There were only so many times that he could blame the butterflies in his stomach on the fact he hadn’t eaten in a while.

There were only so many times that he could blame the thudding of his heart on his body trying to stay warm.

He slowly shifted just enough to peer up at Gavin, brown eyes sparkling with glassiness he couldn’t blink away. He could see Gavin’s deep green-grey eyes were just as glazed over as they looked down at him.

But despite the tears, he still whispered back right against his lips, “I’m going to miss you too, Connor Anderson.”

Those words had a small feeling twisting around the pit of his stomach. He wondered if Gavin knew just how much his words sparked something deep in his chest, if he knew how they had a warm sensation coursing through him, fighting against the cold that sat in his bones.

How Connor wouldn’t be able to forget those words, even if he tried.

How they’d stick in his head like a song on repeat.

Then again, so did most of the things Gavin said. Sometimes, he found Gavin’s voice was in his head more than his own.

Connor could smell the nicotine on his breath as those words were pressed so close to his lips & he couldn’t help the urge of wanting to taste them too. One gloved hand reached up to gently cup Gavin’s cheek & a tear slipped down Connor’s face as he pressed his lips to his companion’s.

The fact that Gavin didn’t even hesitate to kiss back this time made a warmth settle somewhere deep within his chest. 

His lips moved ever so gently against Connor’s & he felt Gavin slowly slide one arm around his lower back, beneath the blanket, to hold him close while his other hand held his cigarette slightly out of the way so he didn’t accidentally burn either of them.

“You’re making a terrible mistake, Connor Anderson.” Gavin whispered against his lips as he kissed him over a few times with delicate, barely there kisses.

But each time, Connor kissed back.

What a terrible, terrible thing.

If each kiss was a mistake, then he was making many. Perhaps he was insane.

After all, the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over & over & expecting a different result.

With each little kiss, there was that voice somewhere deep in the back of his mind that hoped perhaps just one of them would be enough to change Gavin’s mind.

“Then I’m a fool, Gavin Reed. But what does that make you?” Conner asked. After all, Gavin was kissing him right back. He broke their kissing so he could rest his forehead against Gavin’s, letting out a shuddered breath against his lips.

He felt the way Gavin’s hand slipped just beneath his jacket so those calloused hands with delicate fingers could trace little invisible shapes along his lower back, on the section that wasn’t streaked with jagged scar tissue.

It was such a tiny, mindless action, yet the man still took the extra effort to not touch him somewhere that might make him uncomfortable. It was the type of action Connor caught Gavin doing whenever his hands got restless.

Like how he tapped his fingers on his thigh or across the wheel as he drove.

“A goddamn fucking idiot, that’s what.” 

“At least there we can agree.”

Connor didn’t get to focus on Gavin’s gentle touch for long, as he was the first one to pull back & laugh. A rough, quiet laugh, one that had his arm moving from around Connor so he could hug his stomach as a groan cut through those angelic little sounds.

Connor laughed too, sort of. It was more an amused huff that was short-lived when concern took over at his companion’s distress.

It was like the world was punishing him for having one nice moment. It was like it was saying,  _ ‘Hey, how dare you laugh?! You can’t have that!’ _

The little pack of painkillers that Connor had bought from the 24hr chemist weighed that little bit more heavy in his pocket, but if he gave them to Gavin now, he knew damn well that the moron would take them before getting some food in his system & then end up in more pain that he didn’t need.

That Connor didn’t want to see him in.

So he selfishly kept them to himself, just for a little while longer. Gavin could hold on that long.

“We should get some dinner.” Connor murmured as he sat back up, rubbing his hands together so the friction would warm them up again. In return, the man flicked all the excess ash from his cigarette & held it up to show Connor before taking another deep drag.

“Cigarettes don’t count.” He deadpanned, nudging his shoulder against Gavin’s. 

It was night by the time they had trudged through the snow at their slow pace to somewhere that was still open to grab some food.

They were about to walk into a little store with every intention of settling on very likely, not at all fresh, poorly made sandwiches, but right as they got to the entrance, Gavin caught sight of a little neon ‘24hr’ sign of a fast food joint.

He noticed the way Connor caught his line of sight, glanced to the restaurant & when they both looked back at each other, their eyes said it all. No words were needed, because Connor simply linked his arm with Gavin’s under the guise of helping him walk steady & they made their way over.

No more than ten minutes later, they were sitting in a little booth in the far corner of the restaurant, opposite one another. It was the cheapest to buy one meal & split it in half, so Connor had the fries, Gavin had the veggie wrap, a coffee each & neither were complaining.

Besides the skeleton crew working, Gavin & Connor were the only two in the whole restaurant. Only half of the lights were on, washing them in particularly unflattering shades of off-white hues.

Yet somehow, Connor still looked perfect. 

Gavin caught himself staring at the man opposite, watching as he opened out a napkin, laid it neatly across the table in front of him so he could begin arranging his fries neatly in size order along it as he ate them.

It reminded him of the way Connor always pushed the condiments on the diner tables into a neat line, or how he pushed the blueberries together in perfect symmetrical shapes, or the way his clothes were always fucking folded.

He always did little things like that, whether it was to keep his hands busy, or because he felt the need to have that control, Gavin wasn’t so sure.

It just added to the list of little quirks & details he was learning about his companion.

His friend. His-

Shit, they were not friends, were they?

Friends didn’t kiss like they did.

Friends didn’t look at one another like they did.

“Does this mean you’re a vegetarian?” Connor’s voice broke him from his thoughts before they could spiral too far out of control. Gavin just nodded, swallowing the food that was in his mouth & chasing it up with a swig of coffee before finally replying.

“Mhm. Have been as soon as I left home when I was younger.” 

It was one of the first decisions he made for himself & had control of. The second he left that hellhole he grew up in, where he didn’t get a say in what he ate, Gavin decided he would never eat meat again. 

He watched the way Connor paused studying his fries to look up at Gavin with one of the tiniest, softest smiles that he had seen grace those features in a while. Under the ugly lighting, he almost couldn’t see the fading bruises on Connor’s face.

He had never seen him without those bruises. Then again, Connor hadn’t seen him without injuries either.

Gavin was beginning to notice just how much of their conversations were portrayed through actions rather than words. Connor’s little smile was in place of a sentence. Their little glances towards one another were instead of asking if the other was okay.

Much of their connection stemmed from the lack of needing to talk just to fill a silence & thinking about it had that feeling in his chest again. That warm feeling.

Gavin stayed quiet for a long while, mostly just focusing on his food before deciding that there was just one question that was bugging him too much to not ask. One tiny little thing that hadn’t left his mind since it was brought up.

“Hey, Con, I’ve been thinking & well, can I ask you something really stupid?” 

“Well, you already know…  _ stuff  _ about me, so uh, sure.” His companion murmured back, diverting his gaze to the window as he said ‘stuff’.

Right. Stuff. Like the fact he was hitchhiking with a killer. But at the same time, Connor was hitchhiking with a killer too. 

But this wasn’t about any of that. This wasn’t about taking someone’s life away, this wasn’t about bruises or scars. This wasn’t about tragic pasts. 

No, this was more important. In Gavin’s mind, at least.

“What was your something green?”

“What?” 

“Your something green.”

“I know what you said, but-” 

Gavin watched every little micro expression so fucking carefully.

He watched the way Connor ticked his head to the side, just enough to catch his gaze again. He watched the way every time Connor looked at him, he smiled just a little bit.

That contagious fucking smile.

He watched the way Connor’s brows furrowed together when he cut his own sentence off, the way his confused look morphed into something that looked so fucking surprised for just a second. But then it shifted into something more subtle. A sly little grin as he settled back in his seat, looking perhaps a little too smug as he munched on a few more fries before he finally, fucking finally piped up with five little words.

“I thought you didn’t care.”

_ ‘I thought you didn’t care.’ _

_ I don’t. I don’t care. I can’t care. Caring about you is a terrible, terrible mista- _

“I don’t. Just curious.”

But he did care. He was so much more than just curious. He wanted to know what Connor thought about while playing their stupid diner game. He wanted to know what Connor had spied, why that particular ‘something green’ caught his attention enough to make Gavin guess what it was.

He wanted to know more.

He wanted to know Connor.

Connor hummed out a little ‘mhm’, but he did it in that way that all but screamed ‘I don’t fucking believe you’. He sipped on his coffee, those dark, tired eyes carefully studying Gavin’s until he gave his answer.

Quite honestly, Gavin didn’t know how he didn’t guess it considering the way Connor always looked at him with a gaze that so clearly showed he was studying even the tiniest details on his face.

He just didn’t think Connor cared  _ that  _ much.

“Your eyes.”

Gavin just stared at Connor from behind his coffee cup, mid sip & it took a whole lot of restraint to not choke on his drink, but he swallowed it down & placed his cup on the table with a shake of his head.

Even when looking at the rest of the world, Connor only ever saw him. 

_ You’re too good to be here with me, y’know. _

“You’re ridiculous.” Gavin muttered through an amused huff, diverting his gaze from his companion & instead just focused on finishing his meal. 

He could feel his cheeks heating up again, just like they had done when he had seen Connor take off his shirt. His olive skin dusted with a soft shade of pink that spread across his cheekbones & for once, he was grateful for the bruises that littered his face. Because maybe, just maybe, they’d be able to hide the clear emotions that came in the form of a subtle little blush.

He tried to shove his thoughts aside, to not think too much into it, to not think about how Connor always seemed to have him on his mind, to not care-

But it was so fucking difficult.

It was difficult when Connor was as stubborn as Tina. It was difficult when he was as steadfast as shorelines against the ocean’s waves.

Pushing & fucking pushing, but the shores stood strong.

Or as strong as they could.

Eventually though, even the most stubborn will erode away with enough perpetual force.

Connor never bothered to reply. If he had something to say, he kept it to himself. Instead, they both just sat there, quietly finishing their meal & their coffees in a silence that wasn’t quite uncomfortable, but wasn’t the opposite either.

It was only once they were done & about to stand that Gavin’s phone buzzed in his pocket, he held his finger up to motion ‘one sec’ to Connor before pulling his phone out.

It was a text from North.

_ ‘Car’s all fixed. Feel free to pick it up whenever you’re ready. Either me & Markus will be in the garage. Try not to crash it again or we’ll charge you extra ;) ~ Jericho’ _

The smile that sat on Gavin’s face at the playful threat from the friendly mechanic only lasted a moment or two before it fell as the reality sank back in again.

Nine hours, Connor had said.

Nine hours if they went straight from Iowa to Michigan without stopping.

Sure, the snow on the roads added a few more hours to that, but that was still a relatively small number.

Guilt slowly began to swim around Gavin’s gut as his eyes flickered from the text & up to Connor’s face where he was nibbling on his lip, waiting for Gavin to either tell him what was up or tell him they could head out.

Although it was barely a minute, he felt as though he was sitting there for an eternity, contemplating every possible way he could tell Connor that it was time to get back in their car & head out.

Not their car. His. _ His  _ fucking car.

_ Hey, Con, so I know you want longer together, but the car is fixed up & I want to head out. _

_ Hey, Con, we can pick up the car in the morning, I kinda missed having you riding shotgun, y’know? _

_ I swear I won’t abandon you in the snow this time, if we get stuck in the fucking snow, we get stuck together. _

There were so many variations he could say, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was, “Car’s ready” as he held up his phone, shaking it a little as though to indicate to the text that illuminated the screen.

Just like that, Gavin pocketed his phone & stood up, grabbing their empty food containers to shove them in the trash before heading towards the door with the assumption that Connor would follow. Which, he did, but right as they were met with the cold breeze as the automatic doors opened, Connor grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his tracks with a barely there murmur to go along with it.

_ “Wait.” _

Gavin did as he was told, idling there for a moment with his head bowed, staring at his sneakers until he finally had the courage to slowly turn to face the man that had recently taken up residence in his mind 24-fucking-7.

The doors to the restaurant stayed open, the winds against his back sending a little shiver up along his spine as he first looked down to where Connor was holding his wrist before up to his face with an expectant look.

There was a nervousness tied in with the sadness that those honey whiskey eyes were so adamant on carrying around, an almost pleading look sitting on his beautifully structured features.

Fuck him.

Fuck him for being so pretty, for being so goddamn gorgeous not only on the outside, but on the inside too. Fuck him for his eyes being as warm as his soul.

Fuck him, because Gavin was the drastic opposite. Cold, mean, funny looking & angry, yet here Connor was, sliding his hand from his wrist so he could interlace his fingers with Gavin’s, looking at him as though he had anything more to offer than a smoker’s cough & a glare or two.

“Give me a week.”

_ No. _

“What?”

“Give me a week.” Connor repeated, a little more confidence to his voice the second time around, even if it sounded a little rough from the sore throat that had been slowly getting progressively worse since he was writing that postcard in the diner.

Once again, Gavin found his eyes drifting to their hands, but rather than yanking his hand away as though Connor’s touch had burned him, he instead tightened his grip. Just a little bit.

The man must have noticed too, because the tiniest, ever so slight smile tugged at one corner of his lips for just a second before it fell away again as Gavin murmured back while keeping his gaze diverted, “I can’t.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?” 

_ Both! _

He felt the way Connor took a little step closer, the man’s free hand slowly reaching up so he could place a finger beneath Gavin’s chin which gave him no other option than to stop staring at their hands & meet his face instead.

He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to look at the hurt that would inevitably cross those features when he made Connor sad all over again.

But he looked up anyway.

Connor had heard the phone call. He knew exactly why Gavin was going to Detroit & the reality of the situation was that once they were there, they would never see one another again.

He was just buying time. Whether for himself, or for Gavin, Gavin wasn’t so sure. All he knew was that Connor was only breaking his own fucking heart by dragging out the time they spent together. It was only going to hurt like fucking hell at the end.

“I ca-”

“Give me a fucking week, Gavin! That’s it. That’s all I want.” Connor cut him off, that pleading look translating into his words as they shook, sounding so fucking desperate.

When Gavin just stood there, staring at him with his lips pursed, ready to argue back, but not so ready to actually speak, Connor continued on anyway.

“A week. You shouldn’t be driving with your broken rib, you need to rest. So we take it slow, because you could barely fucking walk here without wheezing out a pained breath. I’ve seen you, Gavin, you’re holding yourself together by a fucking thread! If you go straight to Detroit now, you’ll be in too much fucking pain, so please!”

Gavin had yet to decide whether Connor was using the broken rib as an excuse or not. Was it the excuse that gave him reason to link arms as they walked down the street? Was it the excuse that gave him reason to help him change or shower?

Was Gavin’s pain an excuse? A distraction from his own?

“A few days, Gav, that’s it. A few in Illinois, a few in Indiana, then we get to Michigan on Christmas day. Then you get your poetic fucking send off.” Connor spat with far more hopelessness in his voice than Gavin had ever heard before.

His companion shook their hands as though shaking his words into Gavin, tears brimming in those pretty eyes of his.

It wasn’t fucking fair.

Gavin supposed there were only so many times he could blame his father for his actions until he had to take a step back & realise that he was the one who was in control. He was the one who got to choose, yet over & over again, he chose wrong. 

Because he was scared, because he was angry, because it had been hardwired into him to believe he didn’t deserve the kindness that Connor, Tina, that hell, even the Jericho crew were supplying him with.

There Gavin was, standing in the doorway of a restaurant, letting all of the cold air in while being glared at by the staff behind the counter that he could see over Connor’s shoulder, contemplating whether or not he could give his shelf life one more week.

“I just want a few more days to get to know you, Gavin. To know more than your preferred brand of cigarettes & how you like your coffee. I want a few more days of us.” Connor’s voice turned to a whisper when he leaned in to plant a kiss to Gavin’s hairline, words pressed against his skin, “A few more days to pretend we’re okay.”

_ ‘A few more days to pretend we’re okay.’ _

“Okay.”

A week.

He got a week.

Honestly? Connor was already so fucking grateful the amount of time he got to spend with Gavin already, he really was not expecting Gavin to agree, not when it was obvious Connor had slowed him down enough already.

If he had never run into Connor, would he have bothered to stop at motels so they could rest? Would he bother stopping for snacks so they didn’t go hungry on the particularly long drives? 

If he hadn’t run into Connor, would Gavin still be alive?

Connor knew that every single time he asked if they could stop so he could stretch his legs, if they could do something rather than just pass through the state, he was just trying to buy more time.

Watching Blade Runner with Gavin? It bought him time. Choosing to eat his food slowly rather than quickly? Buying teeny tiny minutes, precious little seconds. 

Every night they spent in a motel rather than in the car? 

Connor was selfishly avoiding Michigan for as long as he could. He was selfishly avoiding being alone. Selfishly avoiding his fears.

He was selfishly falling in love with his companion, his driver, the man that turned this less from a hitchhike & more into a road trip. 

He was selfishly falling in love with Gavin Reed.

After they had left the restaurant, Connor had spent the whole walk back towards the motel convincing Gavin to spend the night in that motel & to pick the car up first thing in the morning rather than picking it up & driving on no fucking sleep.

Reluctantly, Gavin agreed. But only after grumbling about how they were not stopping for pancakes in the morning. He laughed at the stupid ultimatum, but decided he could miss out on one set of diner pancakes in favour of getting an extra night with his ever grumpy companion.

Once back in the motel, Connor gave the man the pain meds, then helped him to get into a comfortable position amongst the pillows that’d result in the least amount of pain when he woke up.

He tucked Gavin’s blanket around him, then the quilt. “Get some rest, Gav.”

The man said nothing. He just curled up that little bit smaller, hugging one of the pillows tight to his chest as Connor slid off his jacket to fold it up, using it as a makeshift pillow on his own bed considering he had given Gavin his.

He lay there for what felt to be a fucking hour, staring up at the ceiling as shivers wracked through his body.

No heating, no extra blanket, no jacket; the motel room was fucking freezing. Each breath felt like he was drawing the winter air from outside into his lungs & it was a constant battle to not cough & disturb the man in the bed beside him.

Eventually though, a barely there voice cut through the silence.

“Con? You awake?”

“No.” He whispered back. Gavin always said no when he asked that question, it was only fair that he got a chance to say it too. They were doing that more & more, Connor noticed. Stealing each other’s lines, ready to say them back to the other at a later date.

“Oh. Okay then.” Then, after some quiet shuffling & a little pained sound, Gavin added, “Wanna be asleep by me instead?”

“Did you just ask me to sleep with you?” Connor asked as he rolled onto his side, arms curled close to his chest as though he could somehow keep the minimal amount of body heat he had in.

He could just about make out the outline of Gavin’s form in the bed opposite thanks to the faded curtains not quite doing the best job of keeping the light from the neon sign outside out.

“Not  _ with  _ me.  _ By  _ me. There’s a difference.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t have to.”

“What if I want to?”

“Then get the fuck over here so I can stop listening to your teeth chattering together. It’s annoying & it’s keeping me awake.”

Yeah. Because  _ that  _ was the reason why Gavin couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t because Connor fucking knew damn well Gavin couldn’t sleep without either Tina talking to him on the phone, or being curled up against Connor’s side. No, it was because he was chattering his teeth from shivering so much.

Whatever, if Gavin wanted to use him being cold as an excuse to cover the truth, then so be it.

An amused huff left him & Connor made quick work of getting out of his bed so he could get in beside Gavin instead.

He moved around to the other side of Gavin’s bed, so he could get in behind him, that way Gavin didn’t have to move from the position he was in, because he was lying on his good side & Connor didn’t want to jeopardize his momentary comfort.

He slipped beneath the quilt & blanket, pressing up right behind Gavin & ever so gently slid an arm around his stomach, being sure to keep it low, so he could avoid applying pressure to the man’s ribs.

He was so fucking warm. Gavin was basically the equivalent of a damn space-heater & Connor couldn’t help himself. He slid his other arm beneath Gavin’s body, wrapping them both tightly around his stomach so he could clutch onto him, burying his face against the back of his neck as he stifled a little cough.

He felt the way the tension that was always sitting in Gavin’s shoulders ebbed away as he settled back against his chest. Gavin’s head tipped just enough so when Connor pulled back to glance down at him, the dim lighting from outside caught those pretty green-grey eyes.

Those evergreen forests. Clouded with fog, but so fucking beautiful.

_ His something green. _

“Is this okay?” Connor rasped out, fingers curling tight into the sweater Gavin was wearing, holding him tight to his chest. 

He caught the ever so slight tug of a tiny half smile before he settled back down, those pretty eyes breaking contact so he could flutter them shut as his head rested back against the pillow.

That was enough of an answer for him, but there was an ever so subtle ‘yeah’ mumbled from the man & just like that, everything fell quiet.

One of Connor’s legs ended up tangled between Gavin’s as he clutched onto him, face buried back against the back of his neck so he could leech off as much of his warmth as physically possible.

It took a long while, but eventually the tip of his nose wasn’t so cold & shivers were not trying to wrack through his body. Eventually, the tension in his muscles eased up & his fingers unfurled just enough so that he wasn’t clutching onto Gavin so tightly anymore.

Eventually, as he listened to that soft, deep breathing from the man against him, Connor began to doze off too.

“Gavin?” His hushed tone was groggy, eyes fluttered shut & words barely coherent as he was trying to fight off falling to sleep for just a few more moments so he could get his words out.

“Are you still awake?” He tried again, whispered against his companion’s ear, but this time, rather than a quiet ‘no’, there was no response at all.

Gavin was finally, actually fucking asleep.

A tiny smile tugged at Connor’s lips & he placed a delicate little kiss to the patch of skin just behind Gavin’s ear.

Gavin always took so long to get to sleep, a few times, Connor had just laid there, listening to his breathing all night long, waiting for it to deepen so he knew he was asleep. But it rarely did. 

But now? Gavin’s breathing was deep & slow, his muscles were relaxed, body settled perfectly back against Connor’s.

He was asleep & fuck if he wasn’t just as perfect when sleeping too. 

“Good. I’m glad you’re asleep, ‘cause I know you’d push me away if you were awake. But… Uh, thanks. For everything.” His voice was still a whisper, barely there at all & his words were all pushed together as he fought against falling to sleep.

“‘Cause I think I love you, Gav & I’ll keep loving you, y’know. For another week, if that’s all I get, ‘cause you deserve it from somebody.”

He would love Gavin for as long as he had. 

Tears prickled at the corners of Connor’s eyes, so he screwed them shut just that little bit tighter & swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat.

Those whispered words were the last thoughts cycling around Connor’s head & no more than ten minutes later, he finally stopped trying to fight the heaviness of sleep & let it take over.

He knew Gavin wouldn’t ever say those words back, he knew that come morning, he’d pretend that he had fallen asleep right away too, they’d go on like nothing happened, because-

Because he doubted that if Gavin was awake, he would have been able to brave those words. Because he loved him so much already that it hurt. 

But for now, Connor was just grateful for what he did have. Curled close to Gavin’s back, holding him in his arms, because fuck knows the man deserved to be held, he deserved kindness.

He sure as shit deserved to be loved.

So Connor was going to love him. For every second of every day. 

Even if it was for just another week.


	12. Thieves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor & Gavin drive into the next state & find themselves exploring a museum of natural history. While learning about nature, they also learn a lot about one another too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't believe how close the end of this story is. It has been such a wonderful experience to write, yet every chapter getting closer to the end hurts just that little bit more.
> 
> ((Edit: incase it wasn’t clear: each ‘***’ is a POV switch!)) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy & thanks for any comments & kudos left !<3

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please.” Connor tried again, but this time, he extended the ‘ea’ sound, so it came out more like a whining child who desperately wanted their parent to buy them a stupid toy.

In return, he got fixed with a rather irritated glare.

“I said no!” Gavin snapped back as he slammed his to-go coffee mug down on the table of the little booth they were sitting at to grab some lunch.

The man’s mood had been sour since they got out of bed.

When Connor had woken up that morning, he had woken up with Gavin curled up against his side, the man’s head resting on his chest. One of his hands had been clutching onto his & Connor’s free arm was wrapped around him to hold him close.

He lay there for a long while on his back, despite the way that position caused him discomfort in his lower spine & aggravated his sore throat that was getting progressively worse with each passing day.

He stayed there despite it all because Gavin’s breathing had been deep & slow, indicating that he was actually fucking sleeping. He couldn’t be sure if the man had been asleep from the moment Connor had said ‘I think I love you’ the night prior up until that morning, but he supposed that it didn’t matter. All that mattered was he was getting _some_ rest.

But every moment of peace always seemed to come to a crashing halt, so when Gavin woke up, he was quick to drag himself away despite the clear pain he was in. He avoided eye contact, he was quiet & anything he did say was said in a way that left no room for arguments.

The stubborn man stuck to his word about not getting a diner breakfast due to spending an extra night in Iowa, so once they were out of the motel room, they shared a protein bar & a bottle of water instead.

Gavin had his guitar on his back, Connor carried both of their bags & what little belongings they had between them as they trudged through the snow towards Jericho’s Mechanics. They were quiet, barely any conversation between them, not even a tiny one that only consisted of a few, short worded sentences.

It was like Gavin was pushing him out, intentionally being cold & distant & Connor didn’t know why.

Had Gavin heard his confession the night before? Was it because they had slept in the same bed? Did he think if he pushed hard enough, eventually Connor would snap & walk away?

He didn’t know. But the one thing he was certain of, was that it didn’t matter how cold Gavin was, because Connor had the patience of a saint.

Gavin wanted to be silent? Then they’d be silent. But it didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to be there, whether he ended up caving & talking or not.

Even when they got to Jericho’s Mechanics, things were quiet. Gavin kept the small talk to a minimum, thanked them for all of their help & once their belongings were in the backseats & Connor was in the passenger side, he drove silently for a few hours.

The tension that came with the silence between them only faded out when Gavin pulled up outside of a shitty little fast food joint where they could get some lunch.

When his cup slammed down onto the table & his voice was raised, Connor flinched ever so slightly, but not as much as he would have if Gavin would have done that same thing a week or so earlier.

He was beginning to understand the man’s mannerisms, his emotions, the way that anger he was so adamant on holding onto seemed to always be at the forefront, driving his actions & fueling standoffish behaviour.

So he didn’t hold the sudden movement against him.

“You’re hurt, Gavin. You should be resting, not driving.”

All Connor was asking was if he could drive them through the next few states instead. Gavin’s aches & pains were keeping his motions sluggish & every so often, his breath got a little wheezy too; so Connor thought it would be only fair that Gavin rested while he drove them out of Iowa instead.

The man stayed quiet for what felt like a fucking eternity, but eventually he murmured, “Do you even know how to drive?”

“You know I do.” Connor deadpanned, giving him one of those ‘are you serious?’ looks as he tacked on the end, “I told you about that car accident that me & my brother had. I was driving.”

Connor never flat out said that he was the one driving when that accident occurred, but he knew damn well that Gavin was an observant man. Observant enough to pay attention to the obvious guilt that he carried around with him when the topic of the accident was brought up.

“Y’know that’s probably the worst example you could have used, right? That doesn’t really have me putting a whole lot of faith in you.”

Connor couldn’t help the little laugh that left him, because he supposed Gavin was right, that _was_ a terrible example. But still, before he could stop himself, he was already blurting out, “Like you’d care if we crashed.”

He didn’t mean for it to sound so blunt & flat out, but it was out now & the only thing left to do was to hold his hand out, palm up, waiting for Gavin to pass him the keys.

He watched the way Gavin’s eyes flickered from his hand to his eyes a few times before they settled on his face. He wasn’t so sure whether Gavin just couldn’t be bothered to argue, or he knew that what Connor was saying was right, but he eventually relented & as he slouched back in the booth with a wince, he threw his car keys right at him.

Connor caught them flawlessly, flashing Gavin a victorious little grin before looking down to the car keys that had a little silver cat head keychain attached. How fitting.

He was sort of expecting more of a fight from the man, but then again, he had already sat there saying ‘please’ over & over again for a good half an hour. Maybe Gavin just wanted to shut him up.

“If we get pulled over-” Gavin began.

“-Then we lie. But we won’t. Roads are too snowy for anyone to care.” Connor finished.

The snow was so heavy, it wasn’t even like they could go at a speed that’d get them pulled over. But in the grand scheme of it all, he supposed it really did matter. Maybe if they did get pulled over, it’d just give him more time with Gavin.

A sad smile sat on his features for just a moment before it fell away & just like that, once Gavin had finished his coffee, they were back on the road again.

* * *

It felt awfully odd being curled up in the passenger side of his own car. In all of his years owning the shitty little thing, not once had he ever sat in the passenger seat. He had slept on the back seats once or twice, but that was about it.

Although, Gavin found that when he sat in just the right way, with his knees pulled up & hugging them against his chest, head resting against the window, he had the perfect view of Connor in the position that brought him the least discomfort.

He watched the man quietly drive, memorising all those tiny details again. He watched the way every so often, Connor’s fingers would flex a little before resting back on the wheel. He watched the way he would lean back, only for a little while before his face scrunched up in obvious discomfort & he sat back straight instead.

Every so often, he’d glance Gavin’s way, their eyes meeting only for a second or two at a time, but each time they did, that tiny little contagious smile crossed the man’s lips. In turn, Gavin half smiled right back. Lopsided & lazy.

The radio was on low, playing some of those soft melodies that helped him to relax, helped to give him something else to focus on other than his own overactive thoughts. Sometimes, he’d catch the way Connor’s fingers would tap against the wheel in time with the melody, but it’d be like each time he realised what he was doing, he’d stop.

Eventually though, Gavin had to give in & move to get a little more comfortable when his ribs started to act up again, the painkillers he had taken a few hours earlier beginning to wear off again.

As he shuffled around in his seat, he decided to instead reach over the centre console, to the backseats so he could get to his bag, very likely shoving his ass right near Connor’s face.

“Gav… What are you doing?”

“N- Nothin’,” He replied a little too quickly, a bit of a hitch in his voice as he strained to reach into his bag so he could pull out the polaroid camera that he had swiped from North’s shop while nobody was looking.

Once it was between his hands, he settled back sideways in his seat so his back was pressed against the door with a soft, pained grunt as the movement sent shooting pains up his ribcage. 

Despite the pain, it didn’t stop him from snapping a photo of Connor while he was focused on the road & right as the flash went off, Connor snapped his head to the side to glare right at him.

“Gavin!”

The sheer mom-tone that Connor used had a dumb grin forming on Gavin’s lips. Oh yeah, he was definitely living up to the disappointment that everyone thought of him as.

“What?!”

“You stole from them?!”

“No… I _borrowed_ it. Long term. They just don’t know it yet.”

“That’s stealing!”

“It’s not stealing if nobody saw me do it.”

“Gavin, that’s not...” Connor trailed off & Gavin just watched as his companion’s shoulders slumped, his eyes flickering from the road back to him & they focused on Gavin’s hands for a moment as he pulled the little polaroid out to inspect it.

Perfect. Just like last time.

There was a slight bleeding of light across the polaroid from where the sun was shining through the driver’s side window, but it only served to add to the beauty of the little picture.

Rather than tucking the photo into his pocket, Gavin instead slotted it against the vents on the dashboard, so he could glance at it whenever he wanted to. The action seemed a little pointless right after he did it though, because he much favoured staring at the real thing instead.

“You were just trying to rile me up just then.” Connor finally said, focusing on the road.

“Yup.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yup.” This time, there was a tiny smile sitting on Gavin’s face at the remark.

He watched the way Connor’s mouth opened & closed a few times, as though he wanted to say something, but whatever it was, it never made it out. Eventually though, he settled on, “I don’t think they’ll miss the camera. It was covered in dust. Is it bad for me to say that I’m glad you sto- _‘long term borrowed’_ it? ‘Cause I wanna take more pictures too.”

He admired the way Connor seemed to almost be convincing himself out loud more so than talking to Gavin. Like he had too much good in him, too much guilt to steal from good people. It was sweet, added to that charm that Gavin loved way too fucking much.

When Connor glanced at him as though for clarification, Gavin just offered a shrug & a half smile, settling the camera into his lap so he could snuggle up into his sweater a little better, stuffing his hands into his pockets to keep them warm. Even with his car’s heating on, it was still fucking freezing.

After another one of their long silences, the ones that spanned anywhere from forty minutes to a couple of hours, Gavin could feel his eyes growing heavy, the warmth he was enveloped in making it difficult to stay focused.

Finally, he murmured, “Con?”

“Yeah?”

“Can, uh, can you talk some?”

“You gonna try & get some sleep?”

“Yeah.”

The subtle smile that curled at one corner of Gavin’s lips only lasted for a second before it faded out, but the warmth in his chest? That stayed.

It stayed as he fluttered his eyes closed & rested his head to the side. It stayed as Connor began to softly talk about a dream he had the night prior. It stayed as Gavin faded in & out of varying stages of almost-asleep-but-not-quite.

It lingered, because Connor was the only person besides Tina to not question why Gavin needed someone talking to him so he could sleep. It lingered because Connor wouldn’t take offense when he fell asleep & didn’t get to hear the end of whatever he was saying.

It lingered because Connor cared.

Ever since his heart began pounding at the thought of Connor, proving that it wasn’t just an empty cavern in his chest, the warmth that came along with his companion surrounded his tired body for just a little while.

Just long enough for him to sleep for a few hours without nightmares jolting him awake.

The last thing he heard before completely drifting off was, “... maybe in a perfect world, I could have shown you around Oregon & the best coffee shop I’ve ever been to. I’m telling you, Gav, nothing quite beats it.”

But in a perfect world, he would have never been on his journey & Connor would have never stumbled in front of his car.

In a perfect world, they never would have crossed paths. 

That thought made something strange, slightly uncomfortable settle into his bones, but it only lingered for a moment before darkness took over, camera still in his lap as he let his guard completely down; trusting Connor enough to continue driving while he rested.

* * *

In some ways, Connor was glad that Gavin was sleeping. It meant he could stop babbling about a stupid dream that wouldn’t leave his head, it meant he could stop dwelling on his overwhelming fear of being left alone by the only people who cared about him, because that’s what his dream was about.

But in other ways, he selfishly missed seeing those pretty green-grey eyes stare at him out of his peripheral vision. It reminded him of when they watched Blade Runner together & Gavin spent half of the movie looking at him rather than the screen.

His eyes flickered to the stupid little polaroid that Gavin had stuck against the vent, then to Gavin, then back to the road. Nobody had ever wanted to take photos of him before. Nobody had ever really bothered to look at him in the way that Gavin did either.

They had slept in the same bed, they had showered together, they had been in such close proximity to one another, yet not once did Gavin’s gaze or his actions ever suggest at him wanting something more out of whatever it was that they had.

Not once did Gavin ask for something that Connor wasn’t so willing to give.

That thought comforted him as he drove, quietly humming along to the soft melody that was playing through the radio, trying to keep the journey from Iowa to Illinois as bump-free as possible.

Gavin deserved rest.

Even with the full beams on, it was a struggle to properly see any further than just a few yards ahead, but that didn’t stop Connor from stealing a glance at Gavin every so often, admiring his features.

Every glance he got, he couldn’t help the slight smile on his face. Gavin’s brows were still knit together in that ever-irritated look he’d been sporting since the day they had met.

With the peaceful silence that came with the empty, snow filled roads as the day bled into the night, there also came the reality of the situation he had wound up in.

Was it reality? Or clarity?

That little frown that rested on the sleeping man’s face had the realisation dawning on him that Gavin? His plans were set in stone. His emotions were too.

Gavin would much rather stay mad at the world for the many times it had kicked him down than risk trying to be a part of it all over again. Especially when he had lost so much the first time around.

The more time Connor spent with him, the more he could understand that anger. The more he could empathise with the emotions that Gavin tried so hard to keep hidden away.

He got it too. That feeling of being a ghost, trapped in limbo. Not quite living, not quite dead. Just… Wandering.

He dwelled on those thoughts for a long time. From freeway to freeway. Hours ticked by & for a long while, Connor felt like he was on auto-pilot, driving, but not completely focusing. Thinking, but not enough for it to swallow him whole. Being more of a ghost than a person.

It was only when they had crossed the state lines; when they were in a city somewhere in the middle of Illinois, one in the morning creeping up on them that Connor finally decided to take a break from driving.

The snow on the roads really did drag out the time it took to cross from one state to the next. A drive that should have only taken four hours ending up being double that. A few roads were blocked off too, causing him to have to take longer routes.

He had crossed into a city, a little ‘Welcome to Rockford’ sign greeting him on the way & had been pulled up on a backroad that led to an old natural history museum’s parking lot for about ten minutes before he finally decided to cut the engine & face his companion.

For another half an hour, Connor had his arms folded against the steering wheel, head resting against them, quietly admiring Gavin, who was miraculously still asleep, the camera still in his lap. Just that image was enough for a smile to stay curled at the corners of his lips.

In his head, Connor went over every possible way he could ask Gavin if he’d like to maybe go to the museum when it was open, to just wander around, maybe learn some new stuff, appreciate the scenery & just exist. But every option sounded stupid at best.

Fuck, he didn’t even know if the museum would be open for the Christmas season, but all he knew was that he had to try.

He had to try.

Minutes ticked by. One after the next until he couldn’t fucking take the sound of his own voice in his head anymore. 

“Gav?” He whispered out, refusing to move from where he was, despite the way he so desperately wanted to reach a hand out & tuck Gavin’s hair behind his ear from where it had fallen across his forehead.

When he didn’t get a response, he tried again, but this time just that little bit louder.

The second time seemed to be enough, because Gavin flinched, making a soft pained sound immediately after before he ever so slowly fluttered those tired eyes open, them quickly zeroing in on Connor’s face.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Connor whispered lovingly, offering Gavin a half smile. “We made it to Illinois…”

“No cops?”

“No cops.” 

The little half smile that he received in return was one that Connor was a little too upset to see fall away. Oh how he wished he could make it stay for more than a second. Oh how he wished he could kiss that split in his lip away. Oh how he wished-

He wished & he wished.

But wishes rarely came true.

That didn’t stop him, though. He was naïve in that regard.

“Where are we?”

“Right now? Sitting on a backroad. It leads to a museum, I-” _I was wondering if maybe tomorrow you’d want to check it out. I was wondering if you wanted to-_

“Wanna check it out?”

“Gav, it’s like… half one in the morning.”

“So?”

“Do closed signs mean anything to you? I mean, they’re probably not even open for the winter holidays, y’know? I don’t think-” Connor was rambling. He knew he was rambling, but he had the sudden overwhelming urge to not to want to bother his companion.

Weird how his mind worked.

Thankfully, wherever he was going with his rambled words that were all pushed together, they never made it because Gavin was already cutting him off with one simple, “C’mon.”

Before Connor could ask, Gavin first opened the glove compartment to grab something before he stepped out of the car with the camera in hand, a slight stutter in his movements from the obvious pain he was in. But just like always, Connor didn’t make a comment, because he knew damn well the stubborn bastard would brush him off.

He pulled the key out of the ignition & stepped out too, locking the car behind him before pocketing the key & hugging his coat tighter around himself with a little shiver.

Gavin’s sneakers crunched against the freshly fallen snow as he made his way down the backroad, not even looking back to see if Connor was going to follow him or not.

The first passive thought Connor had as he followed Gavin, was that they were going to wander around the front to check if there was a board with opening times across it. But Gavin didn’t even bother to take that route.

Instead, he followed the backroad around to the loading bays at the back of the museum. The man crouched down in front of the large shutter, only glancing at Connor when he held out the camera for him to take, “Hold this a minute.”

“Gav… We’re not fucking breaking in…” He hissed out in a harsh whisper, but it didn’t stop him from taking the camera between his already freezing hands.

All of the museum lights were off, the emergency exit back doors were clearly bolted shut, the shutters pulled down. Definitely closed for the winter.

“We’re not. I am. So technically, I’m the criminal here.” Gavin murmured back, his voice quiet & slightly muffled from where he was now focusing on the bulky padlock.

As Connor stepped side to side in a poor attempt to keep his body warm, he could just about see that Gavin had two thin pieces of metal between his nimble fingers, working at the slot where a key would normally fit into the lock.

“Stealing, breaking & entering, bar fights… You are terrible, aren’t you?”

“Don’t you know it.”

“My brother always told me I have an affinity for attracting the worst people.”

“Ouch.” Gavin chuckled quietly with a shake of his head. If he did take genuine offense, he didn’t show it. He just tugged the lock open once he had picked it, keeping it hooked on the loop as he slowly stood up & pulled the shutter up with him. 

The duo exchanged a look, their breaths held as they waited patiently for any alarms to sound. When nothing happened, Gavin just flashed him a smirk & held his free hand out. 

Connor dumbly stared at Gavin’s hand for a moment, nibbling on his lip as he contemplated if the risk was worth the reward.

Not just for breaking in. But for letting that hand into his own. Letting their fingers interlace. 

Letting himself slip further & further into… Whatever it was that they had.

_Of course it was fucking worth it._

“What’s the worst that can happen, right?” Gavin asked as Connor finally decided to take his hand, holding the camera in the other. He intertwined Gavin’s fingers with his own, feeling those bruised & scabbed knuckles beneath his fingertips.

“People always die in horror movies when they say that. We’re gonna die in here & it’ll be all your fault. Or the cops will show up & realise that… _Y’know.”_

Gavin just shrugged & mumbled out, “Where’s your sense of adventure?” as he led him into the loading bay, pulling the shutter down behind them so as to not raise suspicion. As soon as it was closed, the room was pitch black.

Connor found himself pressing as close to Gavin’s frame as he possibly could the second they were enveloped in darkness. He fucking despised it. He hated not being aware of his surroundings. He hated feeling helpless, lost or trapped.

“Gav?” He whispered, nails digging into the man’s bruised knuckles without even realising it. His voice shook with nerves that he tried desperately to swallow down.

“I know, I know.” Gavin whispered back & after some rustling, his phone screen illuminated & a second later, the flashlight was on so they could find their way to the back entrance.

Gavin seemed to know where he was going, so Connor didn’t question it. He just clutched onto his hand as tightly as he could, allowing himself to be pulled towards the main museum halls.

Gavin could be pulling him to hell, to his own demise for all he cared, yet he would follow him anyway.

A locked door & a few corridors later, the duo made their way out of the staff office they had worked their way into & into the main atrium, where as they stepped into it, all of the overhead lights flickered on.

As soon as they were washed in the warm hues of the automatic lighting systems, Connor felt the tightness in his chest ease, the tension in his shoulders subside.

They actually fucking did it. No alarms, no cops. As they looked around the main hall, trying to figure out where to begin, Gavin explained that in his teenage years, he had broken into a lot of places & was quick to learn how security worked.

If this was a major museum, in a big city, then the security would be much higher, but because it was only a small, local natural history museum & was closed for the winter, all of the security systems were turned off to save on power usage. Good old locks were good enough in their eyes, which just so happened to be extra convenient for Gavin’s thieving fingers.

They wandered through the large hall, their footsteps echoing around the empty space & as they did so, Connor looked down to where Gavin’s hand had tightened in his grip, squeezing reassuringly.

 _Gavin_ was holding _his_ hand. Actively, aware of it, choosing to hold his hand.

Butterflies began to flutter around his chest, having bloomed from his stomach & sometimes it felt like they were trying to crawl their way out of his throat.

He wondered if this place had a butterfly display, so he could point to the-

Connor’s thoughts came to a crashing halt as he read the sign that had a huge arrow pointing to the stairs, a dinosaur on the sign with a speech bubble coming from it that read, ‘Dinosaur exhibit now upstairs! Have a roarsome time!’

Fuck the butterflies, he wanted to point to the bones of a pterodactyl & say, _‘Hey, Gav, this is the size of the butterflies you give me!’_

Gavin must have seen him reading the sign, because he was already practically dragging him up the huge, winding staircase so they could get to where the dinosaur exhibit was.

Once they were through the doors of the massive room, Connor was already tipping his head right back to gaze at the sets of bones that were hanging from the ceiling with a breathed out, “Holy shit…”

He gripped onto Gavin’s hand just that little bit tighter as he took a few, tiny steps back, stumbling just a little bit from tipping his head too far back. It earned him a quiet, amused huff from his companion & once he was sturdy again, they slowly made their way around.

They looked at every type of dinosaur bone, every fossil, read every placard, taking it in turns to tell the other a fact that the little signs had written across them.

They talked a little bit about how they both adored Jurassic Park when they were teenagers, so this was the coolest exhibit there was & it wasn’t up for a debate.

“Does this mean you have a favourite type of dinosaur?” Connor finally asked, only letting go of Gavin’s hand so he could take a few steps back, snapping a photo of Gavin looking at the skeleton of a Triceratops.

“Nah… Well, this one, I guess.” He gestured to the Triceratops.

“How come?”

“‘Cause it says here that they were herbivores. Veggie dinos, Con. Can’t beat that.”

“Ah.” Connor snickered with a nod as he took the photo, giving it a look over to be sure it came through okay before pocketing it to look at properly later.

As they continued their journey through the exhibit, they passively made conversation here & there, exchanging little, pointless pieces of information. Like their favourite or least favourite dinosaurs, which they thought would win in fights, just… pointless things. Like pointless, normal people.

They took it in turns snapping photos, trying not to use too much of the film, knowing full & well that they only had ten photos to take.

In some of the display cases, there were supposed to be hologram projections of various animals that no longer existed, but due to most of the power being cut bar for the lights, the cases were just empty & sad.

Still, that didn’t take away from what they did get to see.

As one hour bled into the next, the duo shuffling around at a pace that Gavin was okay with given his injuries, they ended up spending a good hour in an insect & reptile exhibit.

This was where Connor realised that the glass tanks actually had little creatures in them. From lizards to creepy bugs.

It wasn’t exactly unheard of for museums of natural history to have live animal exhibits from time to time, especially considering just how many were so endangered nowadays; but that didn’t stop the confusion from settling in at why they were _still_ there.

Closed for the winter, yet they left the animals alone.

“Wait… They just… left them here?”

“They’re not real, Con.”

“What?”

“They’re not real.”

“What do you- These aren’t holograms, though. They’re- They’re real… I can see them-”

Gavin shook his head as he stepped back up close from where he had been taking a photo & he looked as though he was about to get even closer, but paused mid-way.

“Can I-"

“Yeah.” Connor finished for him before he even knew what it was that Gavin wanted to do. All he knew was that he wanted Gavin close & with his consent spoken, Gavin slid his free arm around his lower back so he could press close to his side.

He nodded his head towards the glass tank that Connor had been studying, where a little stick-bug was climbing onto a small branch, blending seamlessly into its environment.

“Cyberlife made them.”

Connor’s brows knit together as he tipped his head to fix Gavin with a puzzled look. Sure, he had heard, hell, everyone had, that Cyberlife had created a robotic polar bear to go to a zoo in Los Angeles, but he hadn’t heard shit about reptiles or bugs sitting in a fucking museum. Didn’t they belong… Anywhere else?

“So… Because of animal activists & shit like that, Cyberlife started making cyber-wildlife, y’know? That way, museums can preserve the ‘nature’ side of things in their little display cases… Without them actually keeping real creatures, suppose they let the real ones stay where they belong. Besides, buying robot replicas is cheaper in the long run too, ‘cause you don’t have to worry about feedin’ ‘em, or upkeep.” 

As Gavin explained, Connor saw the way he placed down the camera on the edge of the tank so that now free hand could come up to fiddle with the necklace that Connor had returned to him. 

The necklace that Gavin had lost his shit over when he thought it had gone missing.

“You know a lot about this stuff… You ever helped your brother with building them?” Connor had to ask, curiosity getting the best of him as he studied the smaller man. A room full of robot creatures, yet Gavin still was the most interesting thing.

“Nah. I tried, I helped make a butterfly, but it fell apart real quick. I never wanted to be part of the process that replaced living, breathing beings with technology anyways. Guess I was always better at destroying shit than making it.”

“Is that what your necklace is? A piece to something?” When Connor had found it, he couldn’t help but think it looked like it belonged on a piece of technology or machinery.

His question had Gavin falling quiet for a few moments. His body tensed just a little, but it was enough for Connor to notice. It didn’t take long before he settled back down & leaned back close, glancing down to his necklace, then back to the camouflaged bug.

“A piece to something big. Eli, he- He was a genius, y’know? Never stopped pushing the limits of what Cyberlife could build. Why just stop at animals, prosthetics & machinery? He wanted to make the world a better place. Always said ‘Gav, I’m gonna change the world’.”

Gavin spoke in such a quiet voice, like he was recounting memories that he had tried to bury.

“Did he ever get to building that something big?”

“He started… Called this thing an LED. First one ever produced.” Gavin gestured to his necklace before finally letting his hand fall limp at his side. “It was going to be fitted onto the first humanoid-robot he was working on. They were gonna help the general public or something. But…”

“...He never got the chance.” Connor finished with sad realisation.

Connor wasn’t entirely sure what else to say in that moment. He didn’t mean for the conversation to spiral into something painful, so deciding that his words would only fail him, he instead turned to face Gavin properly & just wrapped his arms tightly around him instead.

Gavin hissed in pain, his breath hitching in his throat, but that didn’t stop him from clutching onto Connor, pressing his face right against his chest as he whispered, “I miss him, Con, I miss him so fucking much, it isn’t fair.”

He felt the way Gavin’s hands clutched onto the back of his coat, fingers furling against the fabric, as though trying to clutch tighter & tighter, as though Connor would pull away if he didn’t hold on with all that he had.

But he wouldn’t pull away. Not until Gavin pushed him away.

“I know.” Was all he whispered back as he pressed his lips to Gavin’s tousled hair, holding a kiss there for a few moments. Maybe if he held it long enough, all the love he held would seep through & heal all that made Gavin hurt.

They stayed there in one another’s embrace for a while. Until those little defensive walls slowly built back up & Gavin pulled himself away, wiped his eyes on his sleeves, grabbed the camera & swallowed down his pain to act like nothing had happened.

They fell quiet as they walked through the rest of the less interesting exhibits. Maybe it was a mistake to look at the dinosaurs first, because everything else was alright at best. Fun, but it was tough to beat literal dinosaur bones.

Before he knew it, Connor was standing in the gift shop, nibbling at his lip as his eyes raked over the racks of assorted, branded tidbits. From snow-globes to keychains. Diaries to plushies.

He wasn’t a thief. He didn’t steal Gavin’s necklace, he didn’t steal anything. He felt guilty for hiding Nines’ pain meds & for Gavin swiping the camera.

He wasn’t a thief.

But his eyes zeroed in a super soft, blue Triceratops plushie & before he could convince himself anymore that he was a good person, that he had morals, that he _wasn’t_ a thief, he was already picking it up & hugging it right to his chest.

“Hey, Gav?”

“Hm?”

“I… Uhm… Well…” There was no easy way to really get out what he was trying to say. Perhaps blunt would be best. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t a struggle to force the words out without tripping over them. “I’m not sure if I’m going to get to spend Christmas day with you… So…”

Connor finally turned to face Gavin, extending his arms all the way out to hold the plushie dinosaur right up in Gavin’s face as the man stepped up closer. “Happy Christmas, Gav.”

Gavin’s hand pressed against the dinosaur’s head to get Connor to slowly lower it, a small smirk tugging at just one side of his lips. “Must be a mind reader, ‘cause-”

He cut his sentence off in favour of holding up a little colour-by-numbers book that had a small set of tiny paint-pots attached, a shitty little paintbrush taped to them. “Happy holidays to you too. Now you can really refine those art skills, I’m sure.”

“You’re an asshole.” Connor mused in that same loving tone that he used every single time he called Gavin that particular word. The man simply nodded, looking rather proud of himself as they exchanged their gifts. 

As Gavin hugged the plushie with a quiet ‘thank you’, Connor flipped through the pages to see that he had chosen the colouring book that only had dinosaur outlines in it.

It had a stupidly happy smile forming on his face. Sometimes, he could have sworn that they just seemed to be thinking on the same wavelength.

“Alright, let’s get the fuck outta here before the sun comes up.”

As they slowly began to make their way back towards the staff rooms to get to the loading bay, Connor finally piped up with, “Thanks… Gav. Y’know, for this-” He gestured sorta pointlessly to their surroundings. “-For just… Everything, y’know?”

Once the shutter was back down & the padlock was clicked into place, once the cold air began to seep back into their bones, Gavin finally murmured back, “Are you going to profess your love to me again?”

At that, Connor froze in place where they stood.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat as his cheeks began to heat up, flushing not from the cold, but from the warmth in his chest. 

“You- Y-You heard that?” He asked dumbly, staring down at his hands, where he was holding the stupid colouring book & the camera that had just two pictures left, because he couldn’t bear to look into those emerald eyes.

He couldn’t bear to see the anger or irritation that he expected to be sitting on those ever unimpressed features.

He fell in love too easily. Hurt just as quickly. Looking at Gavin would only stab him right in the chest & he was selfish enough to not want to ruin the perfect night they had together with unrequited feelings.

Gavin didn’t have to love him back. He could still kiss him, still hold his hand, still sleep beside him, if he wanted to, but he didn’t have to love him back. 

After all, once it was all said & done, they were never going to see one another again, were they? This time next week, Connor would be alone. Lost somewhere in Michigan.

No money, no car, no companion.

That thought had tears stinging his eyes & he felt stupid having to blink them back. He didn’t want Gavin thinking he was getting all teary eyed over him not fucking loving him back. He was teary eyed because he wouldn’t get a chance to, that’s all.

“Hey…” That rough voice murmured quietly as the man ducked down just enough despite the pain so he could peer up & make eye contact with him.

Just that little action alone had a little smile trying to pull itself onto his features as he let out a watery little laugh.

“Hey yourself.” Connor rasped back, the emotions sitting heavy in his words. 

As Gavin slowly straightened back out, he did it in a way where he was pressed right close to Connor & once he was properly standing again, he tiptoed just enough to chase Connor’s lips with his own.

Without thinking twice, Connor kissed back, softly at first, before it morphed into something a little more intense. So much so that frustration grew as he realised he couldn’t hold Gavin because his hands were full. 

He first dropped the colouring book into the snow, then the camera on top. Gavin must have caught the hint too, because his dinosaur was added to the pile of things that were going to get wet.

But neither cared. 

Now their hands were free, Gavin clutched onto Connor’s coat & Connor first cupped the man’s face to hold him in place as he kissed him feverishly before one hand dropped to his hip. That way, he could walk forward just enough so that Gavin was stepping back until he had his companion pressed up against the shutter.

They only broke the marathon of kisses to catch a breather, but they were minimal. It was as though if they stopped their kisses for too long, then yet another little bubble of momentary-peace that they had created would burst.

So Connor focused on the way those chapped & split lips moved against his own, the way those hands moved from clutching onto his jacket to his shirt, from his shirt to his hair, anything to hold Connor in place.

It made those pterodactyl-sized butterflies return in the depths of his chest, his heart hammering in the confines of his ribcage.

With both hands once again holding Gavin’s face, Connor broke the kiss to rest his forehead against his, eyes looking into those dark, lust blown greens as he breathed ever so softly against his lips.

His thumbs rubbed absentmindedly against his cheekbones & being pressed so unbelievably close, leaving no space between himself, Gavin & the shutter, he felt the way a little shiver ran through Gavin’s spine.

“It’s not that I don’t love you, Con-” 

“I know.”

It’s not that he didn’t love him. Nobody kissed someone how Gavin kissed Connor if they didn’t love them. But if Connor had to guess, & at this point, he really was beginning to understand his companion, he was going to assume that Gavin didn’t want the guilt.

Just as though if they didn’t kiss, they could pretend like they were not going to mourn what they lost, if Gavin didn’t say those three little words, then he wouldn’t have to carry the guilt of leaving Connor behind when they got to Michigan.

“I get another week with you & that’s all that matters.” Connor rasped against those chapped lips.

“Another week.” Gavin echoed, & if Connor wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of sadness, perhaps regret, sitting in that gruff voice of his.

Or maybe, just like always, that was just his wishful thinking.


	13. Cosmos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor asked Gavin for another week. Another week is exactly what he got.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a little big longer than I had anticipated as I was in a bit of an internal battle over whether to even include it or not. I wanted to have a chapter that showed the week that they had together rather than just suddenly skipping to the last chapter, but I couldn't settle on a structure that I was content with.  
> With some (a lot) of help from my beta reader, I settled on keeping the chapter & after many rearranges, here it is. My apologies if it is a little messier than usual or if the structure doesn't work as well as I would have hoped, but I do hope that it is enjoyed nonetheless & that you enjoy reading about the week that Connor asked for.  
> Happy reading<3

“-Nor? Hello? Earth to Connor, you in there?” That familiar, rough voice called out, snapping Connor’s attention back to the present, to the man beside him.

He was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Gavin, on the trunk of his car, the pair of them looking up at the sky.

It was a deep, dark blue & thanks to the skies being clear, it was littered with stars. 

It was beautiful.

He hadn’t seen a sky like that since… Well, since Oregon.

“I’m here, sorry… I was just… thinking, I guess.” He whispered back softly, only breaking his gaze from the sky for a moment so he could look at the man beside him, offering a faint smile.

Gavin just smiled back, but he looked different. It took a moment of staring to realise why, but when he did, Connor couldn’t help but smile just a little bit wider.

He couldn’t see any of his bruises. There wasn’t a split in his lip or a cut in his eyebrow. 

Gavin looked _okay._

Gavin looked like if he asked him if he was okay, he might actually say yes & it be the truth.

Connor broke their gaze so he could glance around, just so he didn’t end up staring for too long.

It was strange; he was so sure there had been a snowstorm, so sure that he should be freezing his fucking ass of right now, but he was fine. There was no snow, no grey clouds, he wasn’t even sure that he needed his jacket.

He was always so fucking cold, but right now? He was warm, despite the fact they were sitting outside in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night.

Not that he could make anything out too well, but the place they were in felt familiar. It felt like he should know exactly where he was, but things just felt so foreign & distant at the same time. Like this was a memory of somewhere he’d been, but it was starting to get lost, faded around the edges.

He was confused; dazed, almost.

But Gavin was here. So at least there was some familiarity. But even then, this didn’t seem to be the Gavin he knew.

This Gavin was smiling with his whole mouth rather than it being lopsided because of his injuries. This Gavin wasn’t littered with bruises. This Gavin didn’t have a scar running across the bridge of his nose.

This Gavin wasn’t-

“What were ya thinkin’ about? Your sentence just kinda trailed off back there.”

Did it? Connor couldn’t remember.

“My brother, I think. Yeah, I was thinking about my brother.”

“Nines?”

“Yeah.”

Yeah. Nines. He missed him.

Wait, did he ever tell Gavin what Nines’ name was? How did he know that?

Connor pushed those thoughts aside as Gavin shuffled just that little bit closer to him. In return, he pressed closer too, as though to steal some of Gavin’s warmth, even though he didn’t need it.

Snuggling up to Gavin’s side under the stars should have felt like the best thing he could have thought of in that moment, so why did it feel wrong?

Why did _he_ feel wrong?

“Look.” Gavin piped up again as one arm slid around Connor’s lower back, the other outstretching so he could point up to the sky.

Connor tipped his head back so he could look back up at the stars. He looked up to where Gavin was pointing & saw the little white streaks of light crossing the sky.

One, then another, then another, all traveling in the same direction.

A meteor shower? 

“Holy shit.” Connor murmured under his breath as he watched the night sky illuminate with hundreds of tiny stars, all shooting across the darkness like they were putting on a show for him & Gavin alone.

He wasn’t entirely sure just how long he was staring at the sky for, head tipped back, watching like it was the last fucking thing he was ever going to see, but eventually, a rough hand gently cupped his cheek, snapped his attention back & broke that little bubble.

Instead of looking at the stars, he was looking at Gavin.

Their faces were barely an inch apart & he could see the little twinkles in those pretty green-grey eyes, as though the stars were getting lost in them too.

Connor closed the gap between them, pressing their lips together.

One kiss led to another, then another & in the process, Connor’s whole body melted into them. His shoulders slumped from where he was holding them tight, his hands gently tugged Gavin closer by the front of his sweater & his eyes fluttered shut so he could focus on the feel of the man’s lips.

He always liked to focus on Gavin instead of thinking.

It was funny how someone who thought they were so dull somehow made Connor’s world just that little bit brighter.

The kiss deepened, the hand that was on Connor’s cheek keeping him perfectly in place. Even when they broke apart for a breather, their foreheads pressed together, Gavin’s hand stayed gently in place.

“I used to dream of outer space, y’know.” Connor whispered against those lips, the lips that didn’t have a split in them, the lips that smiled on both sides.

“Me too. It’s a graveyard of stars up there, yet they still put on a show for us.”

“How selfless.” Was all that Connor huffed out through a brief, hollow laugh that only lasted for a second.

Perhaps if he were paying proper attention, rather than being so lost in all that Gavin was, Connor would have realised just a little bit sooner that the bright white light that was washing over his companion’s features, highlighting his perfectly non-bruised skin was from a pair of headlights, not the meteor shower.

When he did finally realise however, Connor pulled back from Gavin so he could look ahead of them, using his hand to shield his eyes, as though that’d somehow help him see past the headlights to see who was in the car ahead. 

It stopped just a few feet away from them & the engine cut.

When the lights went out, Connor could just about make out the car’s license plate.

No way.

_No fuckin’ way._

“Holy shit.” He whispered, looking at Gavin with a smile on his face that felt so fucking foreign. Connor had forgotten what it felt like to smile so wide. 

“Wait right here!” Was all he said before quickly kissing Gavin on the head at the same time as pushing himself up off the trunk of the car, practically stumbling over his own feet as he ran towards the car & the person inside.

As soon as the driver’s door opened & a man stepped out, Connor was already throwing his arms around his middle, clutching onto him so fucking tightly, face pressed against his chest.

He felt the fabric that was both soft, yet coarse, the man’s buttoned up dress coat rubbing against his face as he clutched tight onto him. It was as if Connor thought that if he let go, the man in his arms would just fucking disappear.

_“Nines."_

It was Nines. He found him.

His brother was never one for any form of affection, so when he eventually wrapped his arms around Connor to hug him right back, it was almost as strange as seeing Gavin without his nose scar.

It felt wrong. But Connor didn’t let go. He couldn’t. If he did, he might never get another chance to hug him again.

“I missed you so fucking much, you have no idea. I got my stuff stolen, so I couldn’t phone or text & I know you won’t pick up the phone from unknown numbers so I- I never bothered with payphones, but I- Fuck, Nines… I met someone. Oh my god you’ll love him, he’s a fucking asshole, he’s-”

Gavin was just Nines’ type of person. Nines hated everyone, so did Gavin. They’d get on well. Nines was anti-social, he didn’t do affection, people, talking. When he did actually talk, he was sarcastic, funny, but kind of an asshole too. Blunt, but in a way that never really made anyone angry, because Nines was just Nines.

“He’s important.” Connor finally finished at the same time as daring to pull back from Nines, tipping his head up just a little so he could look up at his face. Tall bastard even had a few inches on Connor, & Connor was already fucking tall.

Nines looked down at him, grey eyes tired, a half smile on his face, black hair perfectly in place.

He still had that little scar that cut through his upper lip, a scar that he had since Connor crashed their car all those years ago.

A scar that lingered much like the memory of that day, a scar that had Connor carrying guilt every time he saw Nines pop a pain pill into his mouth, even when the pain had long since gone away.

“You said that last time.”

_Ouch._

Despite them being five tiny words, they still hurt. But Connor supposed his brother was right, he did say that last time. Look where that got him.

Nines’ sentences seemed to always be made up of five or six words. Maybe they should have called him that, rather than ‘Nines’.

“Yeah, but this time I mean it. Gav isn’t like him, Gavin is good. He’s _good_ , Nines.” Connor repeated that line, as though trying to convince Nines it was true. Or maybe he was trying to convince himself.

When all his brother had to offer was an ‘mhm’, Connor rolled his eyes & just grabbed Nines’ wrist so he could march back towards the car with the intention of dragging his brother with him.

But when he turned back to face Gavin, he was met with an empty road.

No. 

He didn’t fucking leave. Not again.

“Gavin…?” Connor rasped as his hand fell from where he was gripping Nines’ wrist so he could jog forward to where the car once sat. “Gav?!” 

He frantically looked around, as though his car would just fucking magically reappear, as though this was all some sick joke, as though- 

“Nines, I-I swear he’s good! He wouldn’t just leave me, he- We-”

“What did you expect, Connor?”

He expected Gavin to be there. He expected-

“I-” Connor turned back around to face where Nines should have been standing, where Nines had been literally just a second before. But when he did, his brother was gone too.

Yet again, he was left alone. Not even the stars were out anymore.

~

Connor flinched awake with a gasp & tears stinging his eyes, but he immediately froze in place upon feeling trapped in place by something again.

Not something. _Someone._

Gavin.

Every time they slept close to one another, he found that Gavin always snuggled up so close to him. To think someone so standoffish could be so affectionately sweet.

It was soothing, especially when he kept having the same recurring fucking dream. The same fear being played over & over.

The fear of being alone.

Connor wanted to rub at his eyes, but didn’t want to disturb the sleeping man on his chest, so he instead just blinked away his tears the best he could. One slipped free of his lash line though, trickling down the side of his face & got lost in his hairline.

Once his vision was clear, Connor peered down to look at Gavin the best he could given it was the middle of the night. 

He was curled up small, pressed right to Connor’s side with his head on his chest. He was also hugging that stupid triceratops plushie that they had stolen from the gift shop; it finally having dried enough after they had dropped their belongings in the snow in favour of making out. They had yet to find out if the camera was still alive, or if they had drowned it.

One of Gavin’s legs was hiked up, resting over both of Connor’s. He really was trapped in place.

As he lay there, he listened to the way the man’s breathing was heavy & slow, giving away immediately that he was actually still asleep.

He was actually fucking sleeping again. 

Eventually, Connor braved moving an arm so he could ever so delicately push Gavin’s disheveled hair from his forehead. As he did so, he caught sight of the little scar that lay there, cutting into his brow just slightly; something that his hair usually covered. 

Along with it sat faded bruises, his skin different shades of reds & yellows.

“Oh thank fuck.” He whispered through a relieved breath.

_This_ was Gavin. Bruised, scarred & beaten Gavin.

That awful fucking dream lingered in the forefront of his mind the whole time he just lay there, trying to keep his tears at bay & his breathing even, studying the man sleeping against him.

Connor thought he should probably look away, stop staring, Gavin didn’t say he could stare. His walls were down & Connor was taking full advantage of that by admiring the imperfect perfection that lay before him.

He really should look away.

He could. He wouldn’t.

If he looked away, would his dream become a reality? What if Gavin just disappeared? 

“Checking to make sure I’m not dead?” Gavin’s groggy voice filled his ears. It was barely there at all & he didn’t even move from where his face was pressed right against Connor’s chest, where Connor felt those words vibrate against his ribcage.

_I was checking to make sure you were you. That you were real & that this wasn’t just another sick dream adamant on taking you away from me in the cruelest of ways. _

“Something like that.” He whispered.

“Something like that.” Gavin repeated back with a hint of amusement in that tired voice of his.

“Go back to sleep, Gav. It’s early.”

Whatever the man responded with, Connor couldn’t be sure, because it was much too muffled & much too quiet. 

Right then & there, Connor decided that if there was one moment he could spend an eternity in, perhaps it would be this one.

Connor knew a week wasn’t enough time to try to convince a very stubborn someone out of plans that they were convinced were set in stone. 

But a week was long enough to show them love, to show them compassion, to show them that against all odds, regardless of how bleak it may seem, that the world was not out to get them & that it was a better place with them in it.

A few days in each state that was left before they reached their final destination. 

If once their travels were up, if once they reached the Michigan border Gavin still wished to go ahead with what he’d planned, then Connor wasn’t going to try to stop him. He wasn’t going to convince him otherwise because at the end of the day, Gavin’s choices were his & his alone to make.

He understood that.

At least Gavin would have spent his last week on the road knowing that there was someone out there, even though they were almost strangers, who really, _really_ did fucking love him.   
  
Connor just had to know that he tried. That he tried to show Gavin that he wasn’t broken, he wasn’t lost; just a little off track. 

Michigan be fucking damned.  
  


**_Illinois - Day 2 / 5:58 P.M  
  
_ **

“It’s broken. You broke it.”

“I didn’t fucking break it, you did!”

“No I did not. Gavin, this is all your fault.”

“You’re just blaming me because you wanted to kiss me so bad that you threw a camera on the ground to get to me!”

Connor couldn’t even pretend to be mad anymore. Not at that. As those words fell from Gavin’s mouth, he folded his arms over his chest with the most annoyed glower he could possibly muster sitting on his face.

But, Connor just burst into a fit of laughter, doubling over & hugging his stomach as he laughed, because Gavin just looked so fucking serious over something so stupid, he couldn’t fucking help it. 

He very nearly dropped the camera a second time, but managed to keep it awkwardly in his grip as he laughed. 

Along with their other belongings, after they picked the camera up out of the snow, they had it sitting on Gavin’s dashboard near the heating vents ever since in an attempt to save it from water damage.

After the museum, they slept in the back of Gavin’s car. Wrapped up in a thick blanket, pressed against one another to stay warm.

It was a terrible, terrible decision.

Terrible because Connor slept with a very warm Gavin pressed right against his chest. Terrible because it made his heart pound rapidly, even when he was trying to get some sleep. Terrible because it was fucking freezing, even with Gavin against him.

Terrible because his overactive brain started to think about all of the possibilities of it snowing so much that they would be trapped in the car forever, forced to live off strawberry shoelace candy & cheap soda until they starved to death.

Terrible because although it was bitterly cold, although it was cramped, although his back hurt, Connor couldn’t fight the tiny smile from his face.

But sleeping in the car was bad for Connor’s back & terrible for Gavin’s injuries, so back to cheap motels it was.

They hadn’t done much with the day & they only had two pictures left in the camera anyway, but when Gavin just tried to take one, the polaroid came out blank.

Connor even tried to shake it, which according to Gavin, wasn’t something that people should do. That was just a common misconception.

But the little square photograph was just plain white with little streaks across it where it had tried function, but failed miserably.

As he straightened his back out & drew in deep breaths to try to calm his breathing, Connor caught sight of Gavin’s face. He could so clearly see that the man was trying to stifle an amused little smirk, but no matter how hard he tried to stay serious, it curled at the corner of his lips nonetheless.

“Okay look, we have one left. Let’s just… Let’s just try & see if it works. That one was just a dud.”

“It won’t work.” Gavin grumbled as he threw the blank polaroid picture at Connor, but it just sort of fluttered miserably down onto the grubby motel floor. Connor just snorted out an amused laugh as he tried desperately to not fall into another fit of giggles.

If all of their fights were going to be as stupid as this, then perhaps he could get used to a little disagreement.

He was glad for the positive mood too, because it made up for the dream that plagued the back of his mind like a broken record, stuck on repeat.

“You have no faith. If this works, you owe me breakfast.”

“I always buy you breakfast.”

“Yeah, but this time, I get your share of the blueberries too.”

“That’s not fa-” Gavin cut his sentence off right as he saw the puppy eyed look that Connor was fixing him with & instead just rolled his eyes with a nod & grumbled out a quiet ‘fine’ beneath his breath.

Connor flashed him a little grin as he stepped back up close. He held the camera out as he leaned in close & murmured, “Say ‘fuck’... Or whatever.” Just like what Gavin had said to him back when they were at the mechanic in Iowa.

Right as he flashed a toothy grin & clicked the little shutter button, he felt Gavin’s lips being pressed right against his cheek, which had his smile growing just a little bit wider, eyes crinkling at the edges. 

A genuine, full fledged _happy_ smile.

As he lowered the camera, Connor turned his head just enough to catch Gavin’s lips with his own, kissing him ever so gently. He felt the man’s hands come up to grip at his shirt to pull him just a little closer as he kissed back. Gavin always did that. He always gripped onto his clothes so tightly, tugging him close, as though afraid Connor would just vanish.

Connor slowly moved his hands so he could take the photo from the camera & as he continued to kiss Gavin back, he raised the little picture up so he could flicker his eyes up to it & as he saw the small photo begin to develop, a smirk grew on his lips. 

So much so that he had to break the kiss, simply to murmur against Gavin’s lips, “You owe me your share of the blueberries.”

Gavin pulled back with a grumpy frown as Connor showed him the photo that was actually developing. Sure, it was a little more fuzzy than the others they had taken, but it was clear enough to make out that Gavin was kissing Connor’s cheek & Connor looked so fucking happy.

Genuinely happy.  
  


**_Indiana - Day 1 / 11:59 P.M  
  
_ **

A small smile was sitting on Connor’s face from where he was sitting on the floor of the motel, back against the bed with his legs crossed into a basket, Gavin’s acoustic sitting on his lap.

He supposed that there wasn’t an awful lot to do when stuck in motels with only a minimal amount of money paired with a freak snowstorm that kept everyone inside their homes & almost all of the stores shut.

Even the Christmas markets that often popped up were apparently cancelled. Or at least, that’s what the news had said. He checked it every few hours, just to be sure he was safe. To be sure that Gavin was safe too. Perhaps he was getting too paranoid, but he tried his best to keep it pushed aside.

Maybe he was just going stir crazy.

Connor had driven them through to Indiana & after finding one of the only few essential stores that were open to get some shopping together to hold them over for the rest of the week, they rented the cheapest motel with the lowest chances of being murdered while standing outside for a smoke & Gavin slept. A lot.

It was strange seeing a man with clear insomnia sleep for more than a few hours.

Perhaps it was his injuries, or maybe it was because he was actually in a decent bed with a quilt & an actually comfy pillow, or maybe it was something else entirely; whatever the reason, Connor just spent the time minding his own business. 

He wrote out another postcard to Hank & Nines that he had picked up right before they left Illinois. He wrote about the little robotic creatures that they had seen in the museum.

It was just another postcard that he slipped beside the other one in his bag. Another postcard that had a ‘Greetings from’ scrawled in bright, colourful letters across the front.

Another postcard that he wouldn’t send until away from the location printed on the flip side.

He figured right before they cross into Michigan, he could send them all off at once, without one from Michigan. That way, technically, Hank still didn’t know where he was; only where he had been.

Once his postcard was written, Connor spent the rest of the day sketching & ignoring the shitty television while Gavin caught up on all those hours he so desperately needed.

Eventually, that got boring too, so that was when he decided to pick up Gavin’s guitar, sit against the bed & try to play until he was tired enough to sleep too.

He liked that Gavin brought music into his life, it made his chest warm & fuzzy.

He knew the basics, knew how to play a few chords, but Connor wished they had more time. Time so Gavin could teach him.

The thought of Gavin teaching him how to play properly had a tiny smile sitting on his features, which morphed into a sort of mischievous smirk when he heard the man’s rugged voice from in bed behind him pipe up with, “What… What’cha doin’ down there?”

Connor just shrugged with one shoulder as his fingers ghosted along the strings, playing them ever so faintly. “Nothin’. Not tired.”

After some shuffling around, it didn’t take long before Gavin was sitting opposite him on the floor, mirroring his position. His actions were a little sluggish & his hair was so disheveled, blanket pulled tight around his shoulders, yet he still looked perfect.

“You play?” Gavin asked after a few long moments of silence, sleep clinging heavy to his quiet words.

Connor made a soft hum sound in response, it not exactly being a yes or a no & just flexed out his fingers, as though the action helped him in the slightest with being more comfortable with the instrument in his lap.

Eventually though, he replied with, “Hi, my name’s Gavin Reed, & I like to call this one, ‘The Song About Why I Suck,’” shooting the man opposite a sly little smirk, fingers delicately plucking at the strings in no particular order.

“Oh fuck off!” Gavin laughed out, it being rugged & breathy, one arm wrapping around his stomach as he did so, because every fucking time he laughed, or even breathed a little too deeply, it was like the pain from his ribs was reminding him to stop pushing his luck.

Thankfully though, it didn’t stop him from half smiling in his direction.

“I’m just kidding… I don’t think I can play properly. I know like… three chords.”

“Well, this wouldn’t be half as entertaining if you could. Now put on a show, you smug prick.” Gavin spoke as he rested his hands on the floor slightly behind himself so he could lean back against them.

Those pretty yet tired eyes focused on him & fuck if it didn’t make Connor’s heart flutter & his hands shake, just a little bit.

“Alright, alright… Can you like…” Connor’s words trailed off as he leaned over the guitar, holding out a hand to gesture for Gavin to sit back up straight & hold his hands out. When the man finally did with a cute little irritated huff, Connor wrapped his hands around both of his wrists, maneuvering them so Gavin was beginning to tap a beat on his knees.

He did it a few times over to be sure the man understood the rhythm before letting go & finally finished his sentence, “...Keep doing that.”

Gavin complied.

“This is the only melody I think I know… So prepare for disappointment.” Connor murmured with an amused little shake of his head as he broke their gaze to focus on his fingers. He silently counted himself in using the gentle tapping that Gavin was supplying him with & there was no doubt that Gavin would be able to see what he was doing by the nods of his head.

Once he had gotten into the beat, Connor finally began to play a gentle little melody. Nothing special, nothing too extensive; just a few chords on repeat, but he managed to get most of them right without tripping over his fingers too much.

“I can’t sing either so…” He added in quickly, but that didn’t stop him from gently beginning to sing the lyrics in time with the little beat, despite the way his voice was raspy from his cold & the coughs he couldn’t quite stifle.

_“Long drive, tongue tied, it’s weird being home. Let’s get breakfast, I’ll pack you a bowl.”_

Connor’s voice was barely there at all, but he tried.

_“Text threads, old girlfriends, it barely hurts. But ghost eyes on old friends is making it worse.”_

If he thought too much into it, perhaps he could say that the lyrics were awfully fitting, in their own way.

He fucked up on one of the chords, made a little sound of irritation as it threw him off his flow. But Gavin continued to tap the beat & right as Connor was about to give up, the man gently sang the next set of lyrics.

_“Brave the handshake, drag through the small talk. It takes guts to be so fake. Oh well, whatever.”_

Connor snapped his head up to look at Gavin with a shy smile & a sparkle in his eye when he realised that he knew the song too. “You know it?” He rasped rather dumbly, to which Gavin just nodded, then flickered his eyes to the guitar, as though to indicate for Connor to carry on.

So he did.

He picked up where he had left off, softly singing the last few lyrics with Gavin helping him along to stay in rhythm with his playing.

_“I’m getting good at losing contact, I can tell by your face. Borrowed my best thoughts, stole all my good luck. Now I’m in a better place, or am I?”_

Connor peered up from where he was focusing on his fingers to be sure he didn’t make another mistake, but so he could look Gavin right in the eye as he sang the very last line.

_“Let’s just get breakfast, make it all go away.”_

He played the outro just that little bit quieter before ducking his head as his fingers stilled on the guitar, a shy little blush creeping up along his cheeks & he could feel them burning.

Even when Gavin clapped his hands together, giving him a gentle round of applause, he kept his head bowed, staring at his hands. 

“Not so bad considering you don’t know what you’re doing. Although, if you really wanted those pancakes for breakfast, all you had to do was ask, you didn’t have to serenade me.” Gavin murmured with a sly tone lacing itself around his words, which only served to have Connor’s blush settling deeper, creeping right up to the tip of his nose.

“Shut the fuck up.” Connor whispered shyly, finally braving raising his head & meeting the loving gaze of his companion. “I just really missed those pancakes.”

They both knew what he was saying was bullshit, that there was obviously a deeper meaning as to why he chose that song, but neither said a thing. Instead, they both just smiled & laughed, agreeing that blueberry pancakes from shitty diners across the states really was the best excuse to serenade somebody.  
  


****_Indiana - Day 2 / 11:38 A.M_  
  


“Hey, Gav?” Connor’s voice was even more scratchy than the day before & as they sat in the diner booth, sharing their pancakes, Connor had chosen water over coffee, already on his second glass.

Gavin was sat opposite, shoulders hunched, hood high around them with his head ducked, as though he was trying to disappear. As though if he ducked his head enough, he would just disappear into his sweater & the world couldn’t see him anymore.

When Connor got no response, his brows knit together & he paused just as he was about to eat another forkful of blueberries.

He was also writing another postcard, this time just to… just to talk, really. One sided talking, he supposed. It was almost like writing in a journal, except the only difference was that he hoped Nines would be on the other end, waiting to see what he had to say.

It was a particularly useless postcard. It didn’t even have the state written in bold letters on the front. This time, it was just a slightly sun bleached print of the solar system with an arrow pointing to earth that said ‘I’m here! Somewhere.’

He didn’t talk about what they got up to or how insanely boring Indiana was when there was nothing to do. He didn’t talk about how they had to drive for an hour, just to find a diner that was open because Gavin owed him his share of the blueberries they always had. He didn’t really talk much about anything that should be talked about on a postcard.

Connor just wrote about missing home. About not wanting to go where he was going. About not wanting to start again. 

Quite honestly, it was rather depressing.

The weather must have seen their moods too, because it had been grey all fucking morning.

“Gavin? Are you okay?” Connor tried again, placing his fork down. He slid his postcard & pen across the table. “Want to write something too?”

Connor had talked enough about Nines for Gavin to know what kind of person he was & if Nines read his postcards in order, then he’d know who the different handwriting would belong to.

The only indication he got that Gavin had even heard what he was saying was when a shaky hand slowly picked up the pen & began to write in the space below what Connor had written.

Messy, slightly-downward-sloping writing filled the space before the postcard & pen was slid back towards him. 

Still not a word spoken.

With a quiet sigh, he slid the plate over instead, murmuring about how Gavin can have the rest despite their deal, because it was only fair that he got some of the blueberries too. Then, he picked the postcard up to read what it was that Gavin had written.

_‘You don’t know me, but I know you. Not well, but enough to know you’re important to Con. He talks about you a lot & it’s obvious he misses you. I hope you guys will get to see each other again, for now though, I’ll keep him safe; even if he keeps stealing the fruit from my pancakes. ~ Gav’ _

It wasn’t much, hell, it wasn’t even a big fucking deal, yet as he read it, the corners of Connor’s eyes stung & he had to blink a few times to keep the tears at bay.

He swallowed thickly, as though gulping down all of his emotions before slotting that postcard beside the others in the back of his sketchbook. They had already agreed that once they were done with their breakfast, they’d find a post office & send them off.

Connor sat in silence as he watched Gavin slowly eat the last few blueberries doused in maple syrup. The man hadn’t spoken a word all morning. He was quiet, withdrawn, shaky & it really did look like he was trying to be as small as possible.

To begin with, Connor thought that perhaps he just really did want his share of the blueberries, but that was obviously just a dream, wishful thinking & reality was much darker.

There was something going on inside Gavin’s head & he was fighting with it alone. 

Connor had already asked him if he was okay three times that morning, if he dared to utter that question again, he was sure he would get his head bitten off.

So when the man left his tip on the table & pulled out his pack of cigarettes before shuffling out of the diner, it took Connor a few moments to collect himself before he followed too. Back outside, back beside his bitterly cold companion.

They stood there beneath the little overhang that sat above the diner’s windows, shoulder to shoulder as Gavin nursed his fourth cigarette that morning.

Instead of an ‘are you okay?’, Connor eventually settled on murmuring, “Would you like to talk about it?”

Because even if Gavin wasn’t okay, even if he was so, so very far from it, at the very least, Connor would be there. Through darkness & light, through thick & thin.

He’d be there.

Just as he always would be.

“No.”

“Okay. That’s okay. Well… I’m here.”

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of can't believe that this story is on its last chapter already. I will upload it as soon as it has been read over by my beta. This story has been an absolute blast to write & I really do appreciate any comments or kudos that have been left, so thanks for those. Can't wait to share the end with y'all.
> 
> Oh! & [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/0Na8cvcMzzKNoqMFoMEtkb?si=M7NIcPJaRtOFZjOPNE4UUQ) is the song that Gavin & Con sing together!


	14. Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But they didn’t end with a bang. No, they ended with a whisper.
> 
> A whisper from a boy who stumbled beaten & bloodied in front of his car. From a boy who had uprooted his whole life like a goddamn hurricane.
> 
> A goddamn fucking whisper from a boy who without even knowing it, taught Gavin more than he could ever imagine with such few words & such delicate touches.
> 
> “I will never forget you, Gavin Reed.”
> 
> That was the last thing Gavin heard before he registered the opening of a door, the sound of the rain, then shutting of the door. He was sitting alone in silence in his car once more.
> 
> No goodbye kiss. No goodbye at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is. Just a few things:
> 
> Can't believe this is the last chapter to a story that has brought me nothing but joy to write, even when the themes got particularly dark & were tough to write. I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read this story, as it was never going to be uploaded. I was going to keep it to myself, collecting dust in my documents because it just hits a little too close to home at times. But thank you for sticking around, if you gave it a chance.   
> I also have a looong playlist of melancholy songs that I listened to while writing this story, you may recognise some of the chapter titles. You can check that out [here!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0K2RPbxSjLAovonby0TayZ?si=EAIBqst1R6q7Ri-h0TIXdw)
> 
> Thank you to [Spacebiotics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebiotics/pseuds/spacebiotics) for being my beta reader & for being the the first person I braved sharing this story with. Your support picks me up even in the lowest of times.
> 
> Until next time; happy reading. <3

_ ‘Save a wretch like me, & I will be eternally grateful. More than you will ever know, so please, save a wretch like me’  
  
  
_ __ ~ Wretch, Autoheart  
  


“Con… You have to stay still or this won’t work.”

“I can’t help it, it’s fucking cold!” 

Gavin paused his movements from where he was on his knees in front of a very shirtless Connor, looking up at him with a small smirk sitting on his face.

He was still quiet, he had been for the last two days. 

A lot was going on in Gavin’s head & he didn’t want to burden Connor with the details, so for now? He was making the active effort to take his mind off of it for a while before it ate him up & didn’t bother to spit him back out.

He had one hand resting on Connor’s hip, gripping it just enough to hold him steady, his other hand holding the shitty little paintbrush that came with the shitty little colour-by-numbers book he had given to Connor as a Christmas gift.

It was Christmas morning… Well, afternoon.

Due to everywhere being shut, their breakfast consisted of shitty coffee & some savoury snacks split between them as they sat on their motel bed, talking about nothing in particular.

Connor told him about the Christmas traditions that he, his brother & his father did. They were nothing special, just a get-together at his brother’s apartment where they’d spend the day together, ignore their phones & just enjoy one another’s company, as well as his brother’s cooking. Apparently, his brother was an incredible cook.

According to Connor, Christmas was just glorified cold weather.

Despite the comment having glum undertones, it settled something inside of Gavin. It comforted him, in a weird sort of way. Because he wasn’t alone. 

He was never a huge celebratory kind of guy. He didn’t care for birthdays or holidays, so knowing that Connor was the same? It had a sense of calm washing over him when he realised that he didn’t have to pretend. He didn’t have to put on an act & pretend that he cared more than he did.

In return, Gavin told Connor that he, Elijah & Tina would get together & watch the same fucking movie every single year. That was their tradition. No gifts, no fairy lights or trees. Just three troubled people cramming onto one couch to watch a movie that they could all recite word for word.

That was good enough for him.

One thing led to another & the next thing Gavin knew, Connor was standing shirtless, about to take a shower; but before he had the chance to leave, Gavin had an idea.

After first making sure it was okay to touch him while he had no shirt on, Gavin swiped the paints & the brush & was already practically kneeling in front of the man so he could use the paints on him before his shower, before Connor could say another word.

He had only been painting with the light blue colour for all of three minutes before Connor began squirming because the paint was too cold against his skin.

After giving him another moment to better prepare himself, Gavin went right back to it. His brows knit together in focus & he nibbled on his lower lip, something he did when he was concentrating on getting something perfect.

“Can I look?” He heard Connor’s voice from above him.

“Nope… Not until the masterpiece is complete.” 

“You swear you’re not drawing like, dicks or something? I’ll never forgive you.”

“Con... No, I’m not that much of an asshole. Just… Trust me, alright?”

At that, Connor fell quiet for a few moments & if Gavin had to guess, he wanted to presume that he was trying to think of either a reason why he shouldn’t trust him, which to be fair, the man had many, or was at least trying to think of a witty comeback.

Eventually, Connor settled on neither of those things. “It just feels like you’re drawing lines.”

“‘Cause I am.” Gavin tipped his head up to flash a little smirk at the man above him before returning his focus onto the lines he was painting. “How’s about if you let me finish, I’ll let you get me back by doing the same thing to me?”

The bribe must have worked too, because Connor’s hands came to rest on his shoulders, gripping them securely. Gavin just knew that every time his grip tightened, he was fighting against a shiver or the urge to pull away because the paint was so cold.

He mixed some of the red in with the blue to get a subtle bluish-purple on his brush to make some of the lines stand out just that little better. From one to the next, from Connor’s naval right up to his sternum, Gavin focused on painting very specific little lines across his pale skin.

It took a good twenty minutes before he was satisfied, having to go over some of the lines a few times due to his hand being too shaky & making them a little messy. 

The demons in Gavin’s head kept his hands shakier than he would have liked.

“There.” He hummed out, satisfied as he sat back on his heels to properly admire his work.

The second that Gavin had laid eyes upon Connor’s bare torso, he couldn’t help but compare his freckles to the stars, to little constellations. He had drawn those invisible lines with his finger when Connor had allowed him to, but this time he wanted to show him just what he saw. 

In soft purples & blues, Gavin had used the paint to connect each of Connor’s freckles into little constellations so his companion could also see the beauty that he saw so clearly on him.

When Connor finally gazed down at his torso properly, an ever so soft gasp left him, which he promptly covered up with a sarcastic comment. 

Gavin, just like always, pretended he didn’t notice.

“So you do have art skills!”

“I don’t think hand-eye coordination counts, Con.” Gavin retorted as he peered up to him from where he was sat, a small smile tugging at the non-split side of his lips as he saw that sweet, pink blush spread across Connor’s cheeks as he properly took in what Gavin had spent so long painting on him.

He could see the way those honey brown eyes got a little bit glassy, the way that smile was crooked & genuine, the way he looked as though he couldn’t quite believe Gavin had done something so gentle with his body.

“Like little constellations.” The man rasped in his barely there voice, repeating Gavin’s line that he had said to him before their shower right back to him. In return, Gavin just let out a soft ‘mhm’ hum with a nod.

He quietly watched as Connor’s fingers delicately trailed along the paint streaks, being sure to be gentle just in case any of it was still wet.

He really was so beautiful. 

Gavin was convinced that Connor didn’t even realise it. He didn’t see just how stunning he was. Just how witty & smart he was. Just how funny he could be. 

How every single action, no matter how tiny was just as perfect as the last. 

How out of every single person that was alive on planet earth right now, Gavin was glad that he got to spend these past few weeks with this man in particular. 

Slowly, so Connor could see exactly what it was that he was doing, Gavin leaned in to plant gentle kisses along his lean stomach, being sure that they were barely there at all.

He kissed over each line that was dry, descending lower until his lips pressed to right below Connor’s belly button. His hands slid down so he was gently holding the backs of Connor’s thighs, just above his knees & it was only when he felt a hand in his hair, pushing it off his forehead that he stopped, tipping his head up so his chin was resting against the man’s lower stomach, looking up at him with nothing but adoration sitting in his eyes. 

The nervousness in his companion’s smile dissipated when Gavin looked up at him & without the use of words, they were on the same page.

Connor didn’t want things to travel any further than that & Gavin wasn’t even thinking about it. Just a few kisses were fine by him.

Hell, just being in the same room as Connor was enough.

They stayed in that exact position, just staring at one another, holding that gaze & the intimacy of being so fucking close, so vulnerable, yet still partially clothed was enough.  _ More than enough. _

Gavin opened his mouth, all of two seconds away from saying the three little words that were cycling around his head, but before he had the chance, Connor was beating him to it & saying something else.

Thank fuck.

In a soft voice, he murmured, “You said I get to return the favour,” as he moved around Gavin so he was perched on the edge of the bed they had shared, leaning down to swipe the paintbrush & paints from where Gavin had left them on the floor.

Gavin just shifted around so he was sat on the floor in front of Connor, looking up at him expectantly as he waited for the man to tell him where it was that he wanted to paint.

Eventually, they settled on Gavin discarding his hoodie & holding his arm up so Connor could paint across his hand, arm & wrist.

Sometimes, he felt like his hoodie was his armour, that he could hide away in it & be safe from all that was going on. But around Connor, discarding it felt… Okay. He felt safe.

They sat for what felt like no time at all, but was in fact hours in the same position, quietly talking here & there while Connor focused on painting across his skin. Considering they were shitty little paints made for children, Connor just had a way of making them work wonders.

He really was an artist. Bringing beauty to an ugly world. Bringing beauty to a struggling man.

Gavin watched in total awe as the paintbrush glided across his skin, those delicate hands creating beautiful little floral designs that curled around his wrist & bloomed across his hand.

In muted pinks & greens, Connor painted with such gentle perfection that even the leaves had tiny veins in them as detailing.

It made him wonder what else those hands had created. 

The only thing that broke Connor’s flow was that pesky little cough that kept aggravating his throat every twenty minutes. A cough that had been getting worse & worse. A cough that had swung around not long after Gavin had kicked Connor out into the cold. 

A cough that, each time it showed, sent a twang of guilt through his chest.

“More people should see what you can do.” Gavin eventually broke their silence, his voice a murmur as his eyes followed the way those hands were just about finishing up on a gentle red-pink outline to one of the roses on his wrist bone.

Connor was so unbelievably talented, he wondered why the hell he wasn’t making a living off of the things he could create. If he could paint a masterpiece on skin using children’s paints, what could he do with a canvas & acrylics?

“Could say the same about you.” Connor whispered back, pausing in favour of nodding his head towards Gavin’s guitar that was propped against the wall just behind them. 

That’s when he realised why the leaves that he had painted along his inner wrist looked so familiar. Because they were just like the ferns engraved on the guitar. Just the thought behind that was enough for a faint smile to sit on Gavin’s lips as he pulled his arm free from his companion’s grip so he could admire the art that graced his skin.

It was almost a challenge to drag his eyes from the painting & the only reason he did was so he could check the time on his phone.

Just like that, with one tiny action, he had actively popped the little bubble they had created.

It was getting late fast & they both knew what was coming next. 

They both knew that their little painting session was just buying time, as though they could avoid the inevitable until the very last second.

Gavin wanted to get to Detroit before it was too late & given there was snow on the roads paired with the possibility of maybe having to take a longer route due to road closures, they needed to leave. Now.

No words needed to be spoken, because when Gavin looked up from where he had checked the time, Connor just simply met him with a single nod & an ever so quiet, “I know.”

_ ‘I know.’ _

There was no further comment, no tears in his eyes. No shouting that he wanted more time, nothing like before when he practically spat out ‘I’m not ready to say goodbye to you’ right in Gavin’s face with so much emotion that it physically hurt.

All he got was a nod & just like that, Connor was closing the paints. Just like that, he was tugging his shirt back on, then his jacket. It took Gavin longer for his composure to return, having to swallow around the lump of guilt that had formed in his throat before he even thought about getting up.

It was only when his hoodie was back on & everything was all packed up that Connor finally mumbled about hoping the paint wouldn’t get itchy, because he didn’t want to waste anymore time with taking a shower.

Gavin didn’t bother to say anything in return.

He didn’t bother to return with a witty comment or a rough laugh in agreement. He didn’t bother with anything because every time he even contemplated opening his mouth to speak, the words just stuck in his throat & the corners of his eyes began to sting.

So instead he stayed quiet.

Quiet as he threw his belongings onto the backseat of his car. Quiet as he sparked up a cigarette, pretending not to notice the fact that Connor kept his bag at his feet in the passenger side, like he was ready to up & leave at any given moment. Quiet as he realised that they were not a ‘we’ anymore. 

They were no longer a ‘where are  _ we  _ heading?’

They now were a  _ ‘I’m _ dropping  _ you  _ off at the border & you’ll never see me again’.

It hurt.

More than Gavin wanted to admit, it hurt. As he drove them in silence, one hand on the wheel, the other having his cigarette between his fingers, he couldn’t stop his mind from spiraling.

All he could fucking think about wasn’t what he wanted to do when he got to Detroit, but everything he had left to do beforehand, everything he had got to do. All because of Connor.

His eyes flickered from the road to his hand on the wheel that had those little roses painted across it, then back to the road; only to flicker to the polaroid picture stuck perfectly between the vents on his dash.

Gavin could feel his stomach sinking, it was like he was looking at a photo of someone who was already gone.

But Connor wasn’t gone. Not yet.

He still had a chance to talk. He had a chance to tell Connor how he felt. He had a chance to turn the car around.

Gavin had a chance to tell him what was going on in his head, what was wrong, what was right. He had a chance to tell him his doubts about going to Detroit. Doubts that only showed up when Connor did.

So why was it every single time his eyes flickered to the honey-whiskey eyed man sitting in his passenger seat, that he couldn’t get a single word out?

But he tried, fuck did he try. 

Gavin opened & closed his mouth over & fucking over. He looked like a stupid fucking fish, trying to force at least _something_ out of his throat, but nothing came. He was so caught up in his thoughts that the only thing that jolted him back to the present was the way his cigarette had burnt down to the filter & burned his fingers. 

He flinched, flicking it out the window with a quietly cursed ‘fuck!’ beneath his breath.

So he could fucking swear at his cigarette for burning him, yet he couldn’t thank the man beside him for giving him the best few weeks of his life.

Funny how that worked.

Gavin caught the way that Connor glanced in his direction with a worried look, eyes flickering over him to silently be sure he was okay before he returned to watching out of the passenger side window. Not a word spoken.

The sky was a dark grey, rain beginning to fall down rather heavily & was already running down the windows, it blurring the street lamps into yellow & white streaks. 

Connor seemed adamant on watching them, chin resting on his hand, elbow propped against the door, refusing to speak, refusing to even look at Gavin for more than a few seconds at a time.

It was only when they passed a sign that signaled Michigan was only twenty miles away that the honey sweet voice he had missed hearing so dearly finally piped up. But what it said was anything but sweet.

“Gavin? Could you… Could you please stop the car?” 

Quite honestly, deep down Gavin knew that he should have jumped at the option to just slam on his brakes & take a fucking breather. He was spiraling further & further into a headspace that he would not be able to crawl out of. But instead, he just pinched his brows together & offered a single nod as the car came to a slow halt.

He flexed his fingers against the wheel, staring at them for a good few minutes before he finally braved turning in his seat just enough to look at the man beside him as he heard him shuffling about.

He watched as Connor unbuckled his seatbelt, pulling those pink & orange gloves from his pocket & tugging them on before zipping up his coat. Gavin watched as he picked up his bag & awkwardly slung it over his shoulder the best he could given his position.

He watched as Connor was so clearly preparing to walk away & didn’t say a fucking thing.

Tears welled in those fucking doe eyes, sparkling & glazed over as he looked right at Gavin to quietly murmur with his raspy voice, “I can’t… I’ve been thinking & I-I can’t… I can’t watch you cross that fucking border, Gav, not when I know what happens next. Call me fucking stupid, but it’s just like before-”

A gloved hand came up to swipe beneath his eye, as though if he were quick enough, Gavin wouldn’t see the tears that were too stubborn to stay on his lash line. “-Before when y-you wouldn’t kiss me, because you could pretend it wouldn’t hurt. Before like when you refused to tell me you love me because- because y-you don’t want the fucking guilt! Well I don’t want it either!”

Yet again, there Connor was, going from a whisper to a shout. But this shout was raspy & his throat was sore, his words clearly hurt to get out if the strain on his face was anything to go by.

“I-I don’t want the fucking guilt of watching you pass that border. If I- If I don’t see you go? Then at least I can fucking pretend, Gavin. I can pretend that you turned around last second & went back to f-fucking Iowa with the stupidly nice people! So… I can’t… I can’t watch you drive away.”

So much for his promise of always being there. 

Each word was like a stab right to the chest, each tear Gavin saw slip down those cheeks being the brutal twist of the knife.

He could feel the way his hands were beginning to shake, the way his eyes stung & even as he tried to blink a few times, it didn’t make it go the fuck away. He could feel that weight in his chest, the one that came along when on the verge of a breakdown.

The tears were there & they were there to stay.

Despite the rain, it didn’t stop Connor from resting one hand on the door handle, looking out of the window before looking back to Gavin with a look that he mirrored.

A look that matched the weight that was sitting in the air between them.

A weight that lingered in knowing that this was it. This was the last time they would ever fucking see one another.

But they didn’t end with a bang. No, they ended with a whisper.

A whisper from a boy who stumbled beaten & bloodied in front of his car. From a boy who had uprooted his whole life like a goddamn hurricane.

A goddamn fucking whisper from a boy who without even knowing it, taught Gavin more than he could ever imagine with such few words & such delicate touches.

“I will never forget you, Gavin Reed.”

That was the last thing Gavin heard before he registered the opening of a door, the sound of the rain, then shutting of the door. He was sitting alone in silence in his car once more.

No goodbye kiss. No goodbye at all.

Just like that, Connor was gone & he was alone. Again.

He was alone as he shouted expletives, only finding his voice now it was too late. He was alone as he slammed his hands against the wheel & yelped out in pain as the action sent shooting pains up along his rib & straight across his chest.

He was alone as he struggled to draw in breaths, each one hurting more than the last; his panic, his tears, his heartache all accumulating together to make it that much more of a struggle.

He was alone as he drove with tears streaking down his face & blurring his vision.

He was alone as he reached a sign that said Michigan was only ten miles away.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, over & over & fucking over. He thought that perhaps if he left it long enough, then it’d just ring out, but no such luck.

He pulled over, slamming on his brakes in frustration to rip his phone from his pocket, clicking the green button before even checking to see who was calling. But he knew damn well who it was.

It was who he had been ignoring the calls of for days.

It was the only other person on planet earth who cared enough to irritate Gavin to the point of seeing red, just to be sure he was okay.

“What the f-fuck do you want, Tina?!” He spat rather viciously.

_ “Woah! Woah… Gavin… Gavin, what’s going on? You promised you would text me when you got to Det-” _

“I’m not in fucking Michigan yet!” Gavin snapped back, using the back of his free hand to shakily wipe the tears from his cheeks, but they just kept fucking coming. Without even realising it, his tears wet the paint that was on the back of his hand & it smeared pinks & greens across his cheeks.

The prominent red paint just matched the faded bruises, anyway.

_ “Where are you? I can hear it in your voice, what’s happening? Breathe, Gav, c’mon.” _

“I- I fucked up… Oh fuck. Fuck, I fucked up, Tina!” Gavin’s anger morphed into panic as his free hand dropped from his face to his chest where he clutched at his sweater as he desperately tried to suck in breaths, no matter how much his ribs protested.

He could just about make out the sound of Tina’s breathing right against the phone so he could mimic the pace she had set. No matter what, no matter how long he ghosted her for, no matter how much he shouted at her or pushed her away, she was always fucking there. 

“I-I-”

_ “Gavin? Stop trying to talk… C’mon, you know this. Breathing first, talking later, yeah?” _

Tina was right. It was one of the earliest things she had taught him. Trying to get his words out when he couldn’t even get oxygen in would only make matters worse. 

He focused for a good five minutes on following the deep intakes of breath he could hear over the phone, then exhaling at the same time.

He repeated the process until the tightness in his chest was more manageable, until the shaking of his hands calmed enough that he could hold the phone properly to his ear & wipe away his tears without royally fucking up such a simple action.

_ “You still got your meds, Gav?” _

“R-Ran out.” He had run out last week. Ironically, they had lasted him right up until Connor had asked for another week with him. If he turned the offer down, he wouldn’t have had to worry about it, but each day he woke up, he was reminded by the empty tube in his pocket & his mind getting progressively louder with each passing day.

The louder it got, the quieter he got & Gavin had been awfully quiet for the past few days.

_ “Alright… Alright, we can fix that, it’s okay. Is that why you fucked up?” _

“N-No. No, I-” He ran a shaky hand through his hair as he looked to the empty passenger side. “-H-He’s gone.”

_ “Who, Gavin? Your da-”  _ He could hear the fear in Tina’s voice. Even if he already told her that he wasn’t in Detroit yet, it didn’t stop the nerves in her question, as though she thought Gavin’s ‘he’s gone’ was in reference to his vengeance plan against his father.

“No! No, I don’t f-fucking care about him, Tina! He- He ruins everything & I just- I fucking let him ruin this too!” 

Realisation slammed into Gavin like a freight train. Dropped onto him like a ton of bricks.

Wracked him to his very core.

He was so caught up in being angry at his father, so caught up in his one track mindset, that he allowed the scumbag known as his fucking dad to ruin yet another good thing that he could have had.

His father wanted nothing more than to see Gavin suffering & in wanting to kill him, he had wrecked what he had with Connor.

He had let his father win.

Again.

He couldn’t let him win again. He couldn’t. 

_ Don’t do it, Gavin. Just finish what you fucking started. The Michigan border is right there. _

“T? I’m scared.” He rasped over the voice in his head, adamant on being the louder one, even in a voice so quiet. “There was a guy- I-I mean, I met a guy. T, I met someone. Really g-good & now he’s gone. He’s-”

_ “Gavin? Did you-” _

Tina didn’t finish her sentence.

But he knew what she was thinking. How could she not? After what he did to Elijah, after what he wanted to do to his father, she had every right to think what she was thinking. Or maybe Gavin was just overthinking. 

“I gotta go get him… I gotta- Tina I never told him- I never-”

_ “Gavin! Gav… You’re doing it again… Stay focused, breathe slowly… Who is this guy & where is he right now? Can he stay with you until I can drive to where you are?” _

Once Gavin started, he couldn’t stop, which always happened when Tina got him talking. It was just something about _h_ _ er.  _

He asked her if she was missing her gloves, when she asked how he knew, that’s when he began to babble. He told her about Connor. About how those two had crossed paths in some sort of fucked up fate, or something.

He told her how Connor was good. How not once did he hurt him, except for when he laid out the truths that Gavin refused to let in. Which was exactly the only way Tina hurt him too.

He told her about how they showered together, but they didn’t have sex. Not that she particularly needed to know that, but she knew damn well that Gavin used drunken hookups as a way to handle his hurt & was always adamant on things being rough, because he didn’t fucking know what physical tenderness was.

But Connor had shown him. Connor had shown him love without sex or violence, love without an ulterior motive.

Connor had shown him a type of love that he never thought he would receive from another man. Especially not a fucking stranger who was just as beaten & haunted as he was.

Gavin only stopped his babbling when fresh tears were brewing & his voice got caught up in his throat. 

He stared at that road sign indicating how close Michigan was the whole time he spoke, despite the way the words on it were blurred.

_ “This is going to sound cruel & I suppose you can hate me for it, but Gav, you so obviously care for this guy, more than you’re willing to admit to yourself, but are you seriously willing to throw it all away for a piece of trash that’s already taken so much from you?” _

When Gavin gave no response, Tina carried on & the desperation in her tone was unmissable.

_ “Your father has no clue where you are, Gavin. You are free from him & you fucking know it. I know he haunts your dreams, I fucking know you’re struggling, but how many times are you going to sabotage something good for someone who would love to see you do just that?! Gavin, you’re letting him win!” _

_ ‘You’re letting him win.’ _

_ “If you won’t fucking live for yourself then at least do it out of spite, you hear me?! Live in spite of him! Live in spite of your hurt, in spite of your suffering. For once in your fucking life, Gavin, let yourself be happy as a big fuck you to everything that tried to stop you!” _

It wasn’t the first time that Tina had given Gavin that little reminder & in that moment wasn’t the  only time he had thought about it.

The whole time he was with Connor, the thought passed through his mind that maybe, just maybe, they really could have something. They could settle down in one of the states, even if it meant settling in a home that would be haunted with both of their demons.

Using his free hand, Gavin rooted around his pocket until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a crumpled up piece of paper & when he awkwardly smoothed it out, he stared down at the smudged sketch that Connor had done of him.

The sketch that he had smudged while trying to wipe his tears from it. The sketch he had scrunched up into a little ball. The sketch that was tattered & tired, just like him.

But it was a sketch that he had kept despite how easy it would be to throw away. Just like the polaroid in his pocket or the one on his dashboard. 

But he kept them. He kept them because they held emotions that Gavin didn’t quite realise he could feel anymore. Especially not for a stranger.

A stranger that, it took far too fucking long for him to realise, was out in the pouring rain, in the freezing cold. A stranger that was alone in the harsh winter again.

Alone.

Connor was alone.

_ Michigan is right there. _

Getting Connor out of the rain so his cold didn’t get any fucking worse suddenly felt a hell of a lot more important than driving the rest of the day into Michigan then to Detroit. 

Despite that pesky little voice in his head that had been growing louder than his own, Gavin blurted out, “I need to go & get him! T-Tina, I left him, I- GPS is on. I gotta go!”

As he spoke frantically, Gavin threw the sketch onto the passenger seat & as he moved the phone from his ear, he made quick work of putting on his location & sharing it to only Tina.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

It was his olive branch. His way of telling her that she’ll be able to find him. That he was letting her back in. That he wasn't putting a full stop at the end of his sentence, but a semicolon.

_ ‘Let yourself be happy as a big fuck you to everything that tried to stop you!’ _

Right before he hung up & dropped the phone into his lap, he heard Tina call out,  _ “You are so much stronger than you think. Go get him, Gav, I’ll see you soon!” _

Gavin’s actions were so frantic as he kicked his car into gear, swung it around rather dangerously, the back end skidding a little too much so that he very nearly ended up in another minor accident.

But he managed to gain control relatively quickly & slammed his foot on the accelerator, driving as fast as the sludgy-snow on the roads would allow.

It was dangerous & he was a fucking idiot, but for the first time in a very long time, Gavin put both hands on the wheel.

His windscreen wipers were working as fast as they could, Gavin wanting to be sure his view was as clear as he could get it as his eyes frantically searched the sidewalks, hoping to whoever was out there that his favourite stranger would stumble in front of his speeding car all over again.

“C’mon, Con, where the fuck are you, huh? You couldn’t have gotten far.” He rambled to himself as he drove, repeating ‘c’mon’ quietly, over & over again. “I-I don’t want to spend Christmas without you, man, I know I’ve been running, I know I have- I was just scared.”

He was addicted to the pain in ways he constantly refused to admit. He was underwater, almost drowning, but continuously held his breath despite the way it burned. Always teetering on the edge of it becoming too much. Gavin stayed in that limbo like he could somehow make up for his guilt by torturing himself enough.

But he had been tortured enough already.

He was running because he was scared. 

He was scared of Connor. 

Because Connor made his heart pound in his chest & butterflies flutter around his stomach. Connor brought a brightness with him everywhere he fucking went. Smiling at waitresses, seeing beauty in an ugly fucking world & Gavin was afraid of that.

Because the moment he let it in was the moment it could be taken away.

But he had already let Connor in. Not completely, but enough that now he was gone, Gavin could feel the crater in his chest again.

A crater that he so desperately wanted to blame his father for, but how could he blame that man when he was the one who was always in control of his actions?

As he backtracked along the road they had taken, tears were beginning to brim his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that night, his stomach twisting into uncomfortable knots at the thought that this time… He really wouldn’t be able to find Connor again.

He didn’t want to go to Detroit.

Gavin didn’t want to see such an evil man when such a good one was right in his arms just a few hours earlier.

_ He didn’t want to go to Detroit. _

“C’mon, you stubborn son of a bitch. You found me in another fucking state, I’m gonna find you on the same goddamn road even if it fucking kills me! Where the fuck are y-”

Gavin’s frantic words died on his tongue as he caught sight of a tall silhouette leaning against a wall that had some shelter from the rain thanks to an overhanging balcony.

He slammed on the brakes & practically threw himself out of the car without even bothering to shut the door behind him. Key still in the ignition, full beams on, in the middle of the fucking road.

“Connor?!” He called out as he took long strides through the snow-sludge, almost falling at one point, all to get to the other side of the road. As he got closer & called out his name, he saw the man look up & yep… There was no mistaking it.

The street lamps above highlighted those perfectly chiseled features. 

He was drenched through & shivering, arms wrapped around himself, but it was Connor.

Cold, nervous & beaten Connor.

“You forgot something!” Gavin yelled over the wind & the rain, his hair sticking to his forehead as it got absolutely soaked through in a matter of seconds. The paint he had smeared across his cheeks from the back of his hand was running down his skin as the rain washed it away.

“What?!” Connor yelled back as he pushed up from the wall & trekked towards Gavin at the same time as reaching a hand back to pat his bag to be sure he had it.

No, that wasn’t what he was forgetting.

When Connor began stepping closer, Gavin stilled in his tracks to catch his breath, the headlights from his car illuminating them both. It was only once Connor was close enough that Gavin murmured, “Me.”

_ You forgot me. _

Connor just stopped, staring at him with a look of complete & utter disbelief. Those puppy eyes Gavin hated that he loved so much looked around as though the elements could give him an answer.

But when nothing came, he just threw his hands in the air & it was only when they came back down that Gavin caught the way Connor’s lower lip began to wobble.

His brows pinched together & his face twisted up in strain, so clearly struggling to not break down into a mess of tears.

Gavin crossed the last few steps that were between them & despite the pain in his ribs, despite the shortage of breath in his lungs, despite the voice in his head yelling at him for turning around, despite it all, he wrapped both arms around the stranger he had fallen in love with & pulled him right against his chest.

Because a hug from Connor on Christmas day in the middle of torrential rain, soaked through to the core was better than pulling that bastard trigger a second time.

When two arms wrapped tightly around his middle, clutching onto him so fucking tightly that it felt like his bones were going to break, Gavin buried his face right against Connor’s neck, a choked sob escaping his lips.

He felt the way Connor was already sobbing, the way tears got lost thanks to the rain. They were no doubt both going to have one hell of a cold to suffer through from standing in the middle of the fucking rain, in the middle of all the goddamn snow.

But Connor was worth it.

If they survived the potential pneumonia, at least they’d have each other.

Gavin’s fingers curled into the wet fabric of Connor’s coat & finally, fucking finally, he found his voice for the man that he had so much left to say to.

But for now? He would start with one simple sentence. A sentence that had already been spoken by Connor, but Gavin never got to say it back.

A sentence that was a start. Not a prison sentence, not a death sentence. Just ten words. Ten words to start it all.

“I’m not ready to say goodbye to you either, Con.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> List of suicide & crisis helplines can be found [here.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines)  
> Stay safe. <3


End file.
